


Worth A Thousand Words

by DeadlyKittenKay (PrettyBlueIz)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates, Barebacking, Bottom Castiel, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Past Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, Photographer Dean, Top Dean, Writer Castiel, bobby/ellen - Freeform, other relationships are minor players, past dean/danneel, sam/jessica - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-21
Updated: 2017-09-21
Packaged: 2019-01-01 04:39:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 24,714
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12148809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PrettyBlueIz/pseuds/DeadlyKittenKay
Summary: Dean is a photographer who dreams of traveling the world taking pictures of National Geographic. His strong suite is portraits and his ability to capture just more than the main focus. Castiel on the best selling Scifi Novelist under the name, Dimitri Krushnic. Despite being a household name, no one truly knows who Dimitri is. That’s where Dean comes in. A job of a lifetime to get him to where he dreams to be, but what if his dream was the man with impossibly blue eyes that let a stranger take his picture at his favorite coffee shop?





	1. Chance Encounters

**Author's Note:**

> A big thank you to the JoJo and Muse for hosting the DeanCas Tropefest! To Pherryt for jumping in as an Alpha and Beta reader even though my tenses drive her mad. To Loveinghybrid for keeping me on task when I wanted to crawl and hide away from the fandom. 
> 
> And a very special thanks to Blu who not only selected to do art for this but did an AMAZING job bringing my vision to life with one of the scenes! Check out the [Art Master Post](https://blusart.tumblr.com/post/165550136625/for-the-deancastropefest-title-worth-a-thousand) and be sure to leave Blu some love!
> 
> I hope you enjoy!

It was just a normal Thursday afternoon. The air was starting to get the hint of a chill to it as fall started to creep its way into the seasons. Leaves on trees starting to change from their dark greens to rich and vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds. The days were starting to get shorter and, for someone like Dean, business was starting to pick up since everyone wanted to either have a fall wedding or their family portraits with the Autumn light.

Being a photographer has been a good gig for Dean. A natural people person with the ability to make almost anyone - infants do not count as they can’t really see that far past their own noses - smile. He had a good eye for detail and could usually talk an oversensitive bride or overly anxious groom into being a complete natural for the camera.  

Of course, he did more than wedding photography and family shots. He had been hired over the years to work as a photog for various fan conventions: Comic Con in San Diego, CA; auto shows, even taking still photography of movies and shows that were being worked on.

He loved his job, though Dean had surprised his family when he announced he wanted to be a photographer instead of a mechanic. Sure, he loved working on his car, or restoring a long lost beauty, but there was something about catching that one moment no one else would have thought about.

Best part? He makes his own hours. That’s why on days like today, he can roll out of bed at nine in the morning before taking a walk with his trusted Canon EOS. His first stop was to the local coffee shop called  _ the Green Bean _ .

The bells above the door jingle as Dean takes a deep breath. The scent of fresh brew coffee and sugary confections makes his mouth water as he approaches the counter. He hadn’t planned on getting something to eat but the fresh apple popovers sing their siren’s song to him. 

“Hey, Dean!” The cashier greets him. “Usual?” 

Dean shakes his head and lets out a soft chuckle as he reaches for his wallet. “Am I really here that often, Kevin?”

The young Asian man smiles at him and nods. “Yep.”

“Well, then I need to change it up. I’ll take a-”

Kevin cuts him off, “Apple popover. They’re fresh from the oven, so I don’t think you need it warmed up.”

“Sonovabitch,” Dean mutters, unsure if he should be pleased that the staff here knows him that well or not. “You know what,” Dean places a twenty on the counter. “That goes towards the next person that comes in. The rest can be used as their change or your tip, their choice.” Dean gives Kevin a wink.

“Sure thing, boss.” Kevin makes the appropriate change then gets to work on Dean’s coffee. Normally he drinks it black with two sugars, but once a week he splurges on a vanilla latte with two extra shots of espresso.

Dean makes his way to his usual spot in the corner, a great place to watch the comings and goings of the shop. While he waits he snaps a few candids of Kevin and Claire working the counter, laughing as one of them stop to pose.

The bells chime again as a man wearing a black trench coat, blue flannel, stone wash jeans and a baseball cap comes in. Dean tries not to laugh as the man comes closer to the counter. His hat is what grabs Dean’s need to take a picture. The rooster predominantly displayed on the cap is definitely an eye catcher.

Claire comes by with Dean’s popover and notices Dean’s expression. “That’s Castiel Novak,” she says, nodding her head at the man with the hat. “He comes in almost as regularly as you do. Doesn’t say much but his order and maybe to comment on the weather. But he’s always a good tipper and polite.”

Dean watches as Castiel gets his coffee from Kevin. Before Dean realizes what he’s doing, he walks over to where Castiel is adding sweetener to his large brown mug.

“Hi, excuse me,” Dean says getting his attention. Dean’s breath catches when wide blue eyes look at him.

“Hello,” Castiel greets. His voice is a low rumble that vibrates through Dean’s body.

Dean holds out his hand, offering it to Castiel. “I’m Dean Winchester.”

Castiel smiles, a small tug at the left hand corner of his mouth, but enough to know that it’s warm and genuine. “Castiel Novak.”

“Hey, Cas.” Dean smiles wider. “I’m a photographer and I was wondering if it would be okay to take your picture?”

Castiel laughs. “I’m nothing extraordinary,” he muses. “But sure. Do you need me to pose?”

Dean shakes his head. “Just go about your business.”

Castiel nods. Dean watches him as he finishes adding his honey and dash of Chai powder. When Castiel goes to test the flavor, Dean calls his name softly, causing the man to look up at him, mid sip. In an instant, Dean snaps a picture of the wide blue eyes questioning him from under a baseball cap. 

* * *

Castiel smiles as he enters the familiar coffee place. This was a bit farther from his house than the big chain places but for Castiel,  _ The Green Bean _ was worth the journey. They were an eco-friendly establishment who not only cared about the climate and the environment, they also cared about the men and women overseas, using a portion of their profits to send goods to the servicemen. 

Castiel usually uses the excuse of giving towards the good of the company as a way to break free from his work but lately he’s found himself frequenting  the establishment more often just to get out. Not that Castiel was a very social person. In fact, he was far from it, but he did enjoy the company of Kevin and his niece, Claire. Both of them were local college kids who looked at academics in a very unique way. 

The best part was, neither of them were aware that Castiel was actually Dimitri Krushnic: voted as the new fan favorite up-and-coming science fiction author. Thanks to his assistant Charlie Bradbury, the newest series he was planning on doing is already creating a buzz on various social media outlets. Castiel was excited but also nervous as he was planning to do something much more than his traditional Science Fiction genre. Through her, he had recently announced on his website that he was branching out to the Space Opera subgenre, something that excited and scared him at the same time. The problem was that he had never written anything with any romantic subtext at all.

So he might be using his trips to  _ The Green Bean _ as a form of avoidance but only Castiel knows that little tidbit for sure. He blames the fact that he can’t picture his main character for bringing  the whole thing to a screeching halt. 

That was until he was brought out of his internal struggles by a handsome young man in a worn, brown leather jacket and matching chocolate henley. Castiel is so captivated by his face that he nearly misses what is being said. Apparently Dean is a photographer and Castiel can’t help but love the irony of one of the most aesthetically pleasing men he had ever seen chooses to be  _ behind _ the camera. He’s quick to agree, allowing Dean to take his picture. He can feel the man watch him as he prepares his Chai latte and Castiel tries his best not to be nervous while  the gorgeous green eyes study him for the perfect shot.

All too soon, Dean has his perfect moment, a moment in which Castiel wishes could have been different. Why on God’s green Earth would he want a picture of Castiel taking a sip of coffee? It was completely beyond Castiel. Nevertheless, Dean has his shot, and once he’s happy with it, Dean hands Castiel his business card, telling him to call if he ever wants to take a look at his portfolio before wishing him a good day.

Castiel carefully tucks the card into his wallet, wondering if he will truly see Dean again.

“He’s here every Thursday, unless he’s got a gig,” Claire says as she wipes the mixing counter down. 

“Excuse me?” Castiel looks at his niece with a raised eyebrow. 

She rolls her blue eyes at him. “Dean. He comes in every week like clock work. Orders a vanilla latte, light foam and two shots of espresso. Usually he just gets the coffee and takes pictures. Doesn’t really talk to anyone but us.” She shrugs her shoulders.

“Why are you telling me this?” Castiel asks, the confusion clear on his face.

“Because Dad’s right. You need to get out more. And last I heard, Dean was single.”

Castiel shakes his head at Claire. “No. Not having this discussion with you. I’m going to have to call James and remind him that my life is my own.” He gives Claire a quick kiss on the top of her head. “I need to get back to work. Be good and stop playing matchmaker.”

“You need to get laid, Uncle Cas!” She calls out as he heads towards the door. He cringes and chooses to ignore her, even though she’s not wrong.


	2. The Plan

Castiel is flipping the card between his fingers, unsure if he should even suggest it. Charlie and his publicist Balthazar both believe he should have an exposé of sorts. A day in the life of Dmitri to show the fans how he goes about his creative process. The problem is he doesn’t really want to do it and these two are suggesting that the photographer stays with him so that they can capture all of his habits.

It had been at least two months since Castiel had encountered Dean at  _ The Green Bean _ . Was it crazy that his first thought was to have Charlie call Dean and see if he would be willing to do it? Of course not, Castiel thought to himself. It was merely a professional courtesy. 

Even though he had no idea what his portfolio had in it. 

Balthazar sighed and flopped onto the couch besides Castiel. “I think this would be a great way to humanize the elusive Dimitri Krushnic.”

Castiel nods. “Of course you’re right. That  _ is _ why I pay you.”

Balthazar rolls his eyes. “Cassie, listen to me. I love you like a brother but there are times when even  _ I _ think you're an agoraphobic. I know that’s not the case because you went to Charlie’s wedding on Catalina Island. But, my dear friend, you have yet to publish a book with your photo on it and the fans want Dimitri.”

Castiel nods again. “I know. And again, you’re right. I should give the fans what they want.”

“And honestly, I think the only ones besides family, myself, Charlie and her wife that know you, is the staff at that shop you love so much. I think you live there sometimes.”

Castiel chuckles. “Balthazar, I agree with you. Stop selling the idea.”

Balthazar looks at him with wide eyes. “You  _ agree _ ?”

Castiel nods for what seems like the thousandth time since his friend had come over to talk business. “Under two conditions.”

“Oh, brother.”

* * *

Dean sat in the reception area of  _ Angel Arts _ with his portfolio book and tried his best not to seem out of place. Although with the honeycomb wall behind the curved white desk and the various screens in the honeycombs giving way to different current events and shows, that was hard. It was all muted, of course, but the office itself felt too modern and too over the top to Dean, who was currently wearing the only pair of jeans he had that were not dirty with paint or grease stains, nor holey. He topped the look off with a tucked in dress shirt and tie, but even so, he felt like a lower class citizen. 

He almost didn’t come. But when his agent Dani called, telling him that this would be the biggest payout he had ever seen, he knew he had to give it a chance. Sure, he would be taking pictures of some pompous ass for an even more asshole like publication, but it would be something to add to his portfolio. Dani also warned him that there was a condition on the agreement that would be discussed in today’s meeting.

“Mister Winchester?” Dean looked up to see a petite redhead standing before him. Her accent was heavy but Dean couldn’t place it right away. She smiled when she had his attention and flipped the bouncy red curls off of her shoulder. “Mister French is ready to see you. If you’ll follow me.”

“Of course,” Dean stood and motioned for her to lead the way.

Dean was led behind the honeycomb wall where the elevators stood. Once inside, the redhead smile at him. “First time meeting with Mr. French?” she asked.

Dean laughed and nodded. “Yes, it’s my first time taking this kind of commission to be honest.” He saw her perfectly trimmed eyebrow raised. “Not portraits. I’ve done those. I just mean whatever it is that Mr. French has in mind.”

She nods as the elevator dings and the doors open, leading to a more classical looking hallway. The floor was tiled, unlike the first floors which were painted cement. The walls were more of an eggshell white as opposed to the bright white used in the lobby. Paintings of landscapes and architecture hung along the walls, interspaced with various vases of green foliage. When they approached a set of double doors, Dean took an admiring look. It was dark wood with various toned slats forming a diamond shape under the brass handles, which in turn formed a rectangle along the inside. 

The lady from the front desk opens the door and Dean quickly moves to hold it open for her as she saunters in. His eyes follow to the swivel of her hips and the curves of her pert ass in the tight mini skirt. 

“Mister French, this is Mister Winchester,” she says smoothly to the blond man sitting behind the darkwood desk. He looks as if he is at home here, in the cream colored office. His feet are up on the desk, black loafers by the looks of it. His grey dress shirt unbuttoned down to the second from the top and a tumbler of some sort of amber liquid over ice in his hand.

“Thank you, Rowena!” Dean was a bit thrown off by the man’s accent. 

Rowena, the redhead, nods her head before turning to Dean and giving him a wink, then leaving the two men alone. 

Dean stands in the middle of the office, taking in the light colored chairs that face Mister French’s desk. The space behind it had a recessed wall with a map of the Earth that looked as if it separated in the middle. On either side of the recessed wall were bookshelves that were not cluttered with things as you would expect. There were a few books, an award of some kind, as well as a few pictures and a decanter of what Dean suspects to be the amber liquid currently in Mister French’s glass.

“Mister Winchester!” The man says appreciatively. “Please, have a seat,” he motions to the chairs directly in front of the desk. 

“Dean,” he says before placing his book on the desk and taking a seat. “Please, call me Dean. Mister Winchester was my father.”

Mister French’s smile is blinding. “Well, Dean, seems only fair that you call me Balthazar or Zar if you prefer.” Dean nods and glances at his portfolio before looking back up at Balthazar. He watches as Balthazar takes the book and opens it up. “So what did Miss Harris tell you about the job, Dean?”

Dean clears his throat and sits up. “Well, uh Danni said that it was portraits as well as some more candid and staged shots for various publications and possibly for a website. She wouldn’t give me an end date and said there were some points in the contract that needed to be discussed with me directly.”

Balthazar nodded and flipped the page. Dean knew where he was in the book. The photos were the ones he took the two years he was a photographer at Comic Con in San Diego. It was awesome seeing everyone’s creativity with their costumes and it was even better being able to meet some of his favorite actors, authors and artists.

“Yes…” Balthazar agreed absentmindedly. “These,” he motions to the book. “are exquisite, Dean. I honestly didn’t need to see them as the client asked for you specifically. This was a mere formality but…” He pauses towards the end of the book and Dean barely restrains an uneasy squirm.  _ This _ picture was newer and, honestly, Dean should really have found a way to ask the subject if it was okay to use in his portfolio but he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to show the candid shot off. “How did you get this?” Balthazar asks suddenly.

“I approached him in the coffee shop, asking if it were alright to take his picture. I was drawn to the intensity of the blue in his eyes.”

Balthazar nods again and closes the book. “Dean, are you familiar with the name Dimitri Krushnic?”

Dean shakes his head. “Should I be?”

Balthazar looked genuinely confused but also shakes his head. “No, I was just curious. Well, here’s what we need. Everything Miss Harris told you is correct. You would be Mister Krushnic’s personal photographer. The tricky thing is he is a bit of a recluse and a creature of habit. He does a five mile run  _ every _ morning between five and six. If he’s not out on the road between those times, he is cranky and pretty much more like a toddler in a thirty-seven year old man’s body.” The smile Balthazar had told Dean that this was a more than an agent but a friend good naturedly teasing the other. “He doesn’t like to go out because he’s not well versed in social skills and interacting with others. His assistant and I have been trying to get him to do more than run outside but thus far we haven’t been very successful.”

Dean nods in understanding. “I get it, he’s got some personality flaws. How does that make this assignment unique?”

Balthazar grins and pulls something out of his desk. He slides the sheet of paper across to Dean. As he picks it up to read, Balthazar continues. “Mister Krushnic would like to pay you that sum as a retainer. Should you agree to the assignment you would actually be living with him for an undetermined amount of time. In that time, you are welcome to work your photography business as usual, we just ask that you focus on the candid moments with Mister Krushnic. After your time is up and the publications have run, you will be paid the closing sum in the same amount as your retainer.” Dean’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. There were an awful lot of zeros in that number. “Mister Krushnic also asks that you keep receipts of any supplies you use while under his employ, including but not limited to any meals, fuel or even possible hotel rooms.”

“Are you for real?” Dean asks in astonishment.

Balthazar slides over another document. This one was a couple of pages and, with a quick glance, Dean knew it was all legal jargon. “I assure you, Dean. Everything we are offering you is in fact real. Please don’t make a decision now. Talk it over with your lawyer and agent. This,” Balthazar taps the legal paperwork, “is a copy of your contract and the agreement you will be expected to uphold.”

Dean nods numbly, looking at the number they wanted to give him and doing some quick math. This would give him enough to buy his uncle’s old land and revamp  _ Singer Salvage _ and add to it with  _ Winchester Restorations. _

He needed to talk to the best damn lawyer he knew. Sammy. 


	3. I Got This

Castiel has been on pins and needles since he found out that Dean had his meeting with Balthazar. His friend had purposely withheld the details of his meeting with Dean, only stating that it went well and that Dean had a photo of him.

That wasn’t news to Castiel. After all, he remembers the day he met the man with the gorgeous green eyes very well. Often he would try to visualize every little detail of their encounter, trying his best to replicate the situations when he would return  _ The Green Bean  _ in hopes of catching him again.

Of course he hadn’t though. That was what prompted him to recommend Dean for the photographs his publisher and agent wanted. Yes, the situation will be unique if Dean was to agree to his terms. But there’s always the chance he would think Castiel is insane or a psycho and decline to job. 

It’s not that Castiel was crazy. He just likes to stick to certain routines, especially when he starts to get his creative juices flowing and he figured Dean, an artist in his own right, would understand the need to have a routine of sorts. He had hoped that Dean would understand the need for him to stay with Castiel. After all, if Dean is supposed to get candid shots of Castiel working, than it would only make sense for the man to be  _ in _ the house, ready for whenever Castiels' writing muse struck, which could be at any given point in time - including the most inconvenient ones.

To be honest, said muse had struck Castiel a lot harder than ever before on the day he had first met Dean. He instantly had the idea of a hero who was like a space cowboy thrust into a universe he wasn't familiar with and wanting to find his way back home. That day when Castiel had gotten home, he had spent most of the day plotting out his work and creating the main character. As much as he could, at least and before he knew it, the main character – while missing the finer personality points – was, in Castiel's mind, Dean. So maybe having Dean stay with him was also a means to get more character development.

Castiel checks his phone again, looking at Balthazar's text. He was on his way to Castiel's house and all he said was that it was a business meeting. Deciding that staring a hole into his front door was not conducive to anything, he made himself busy with cleaning.

* * *

Dean followed behind Balthazar's Mercedes SUV, his fingers nervously tapping against the steering wheel as Dani and Sam talked amongst themselves. Dean glances in the rear view mirror where Dani flashs one of her brilliant smiles and he feels his nerves calm a bit. He could do this. He brought both Sam and Dani with him in hopes that they would be able to see what was going on and help him realize that this was not a tremendous mistake but a God's honest opportunity that might get Dean other opportunities. The biggest thing on his bucket list, as far as his career went, was to get commissioned for National Geographic. Dani knew this after a drunken conversation about his life shortly after the death of his father and Sammy knew because, well, it's Sammy. The kid knew almost all of Dean's secrets. Almost.

The pull up to a white, two story home. It was definitely not what Dean was expecting from a best selling author but given what he's heard about Dimitri, the smallish building suited him. Or at least Dean hopes.

As they exit their vehicles, Dean takes in his surroundings. The house was situated near the southeast corner of the lot. West to the lot was open space, leading to the what sounded like a creek of sorts as Dean's hearing picks up the sound of moving water. From what he could see to the north, behind the house was more open field with various pine and oak trees lining the property. Out of instinct, Dean got his camera out and starts to take shots of the lush trees, taking advantage of the way the mid morning sun was lighting the landscape.

He hears a chuckle behind him and ignores it as Dani explained to Balthazar that this was actually normal for Dean. Had he not taken out his camera, she would have been convinced that there was something wrong with her friend and called the whole thing off. Dean had to grin at the protectiveness in Dani's voice. He was really thankful to have her, not only as an agent but as a friend too. She was always looking out for him, calling him her wounded baby bird because his shyness was almost crippling.

When Dean is satisfied with the shots he got, he replaces the lens cap and rejoins the group.

“Good now, let's see if Cassie is home!” Balthazar claps his hands together and gleefully rubs them, reminding Dean of a villain from an old cartoon.

“Wait,” Sam stops him. “I thought the contract was for a Dimitri Krushnic?”

Balthazar nods. “Yes, that's his pseudonym.” He simply says as he knocks on the door.

Dean sees Sam's jaw tense and he resists rolling his eyes. Of course this guy would have an alternate name! Why would he want to have his name out where others can find him? If anything, it made more sense that the house and everything else was in his actual name then his professional name, given the lengths that this guy has gone through to have his own space.

The door opens and Dean gapes because there stands _ Castiel _ \- the guy that hasn’t left his head since Dean met him - in baggy jeans, a faded black tee with skulls and bare feet. Dean can’t help but grin at the man's appearance, looking like the man he had met at the coffee shop but much more than that. He looked comfortable, relaxed even. If Dean hadn't know any better, from the state of Castiel's hair, he would have thought they had awoken him from a nap.

“Hiya, Cas!” Dean happily greets from behind Balthazar's shoulder. Castiel's lip twitches at the hint of a smile at the shortened version of his name.

Sam looks at his brother in confusion. “You know him?”

Dean shrugs. “Depends on your definition. We met briefly at  _ The Green Bean.  _ I had no idea that he was...” He trails off and looks at Castiel with wide eyes. “ _ You _ requested me?”

Castiel nods. “I hope you don't mind but when Zar and Charlie approached me, you were the first person to come to mind.”

“Dude, you don't have to pay me for this!”

“Dean!” Both Dani and Sam shout.

Dani gave a nervous laugh. “Always so humble, our Dean.” She gives him a look that if they were still bed buddies he would have apologized and dropped to his knees to please her. Yes, he was a bit of a submissive for the right person.

Dean just shrugs, his eyes taking in Castiel’s face again. He had grown a bit of a beard since Dean last saw him but even so, he could still see the strong jaw that laid underneath. Dean didn’t typically like to take portraits of men with hair on their faces as, often times, the camera didn’t capture it correctly. There had only been two men he had been able to capture satisfactorily and that had been his mentor, Cain - whose silver beard and wavy hair to match made the man more ethereal looking than ever; and Dean’s buddy Benny - who’s dark, short-cropped beard blended well with his round face and bright eyes. Even if they were obscured most of the time by the Greek fisherman’s  hats he favored.

With Castiel, the dark hair of his face - which matched the dark hair that was curling slightly at the ends- was offset by his sun kissed skin and intense blue eyes. Dean had always been drawn to people’s eyes. A habit of his was reading people, often being called the human lie detector because of his ability to read the truth in one’s eyes. Even now, as Balthazar explained to Sam why Castiel had never mentioned whom he was when Dean had met with him previously, Dean could see that it was never with the intention to mislead him.

Castiel’s gaze moves from his friend to Dean and a small smile crept onto his face. Dean was  really starting to like that little smile. He can’t place why, but he has a feeling that this particular smile was seldom used. It doesn’t escape Dean’s notice that Dani was watching them with a critical eye either. That’s probably why he wasn’t surprised when she asks Castiel if they could step into the house where it was bound to be warmer.

Castiel steps to the side, apologizing for not inviting them in sooner and one by one everyone files in. The house smelled delicious as they stepped in. The distinct smell of apples and cinnamon fills Dean’s nose and his mouth watered. His expression must give him away because his brother laughs as Balthazar leads them to the kitchen.

“Well, Mr. Krushnic, if you have pie in the oven, I’m pretty sure you’ll have a new permanent  roommate,” Sam teases.

Castiel’s face shows a brief bit of curiosity but his features were quickly schooled to show amusement instead. “Actually, I do. I just got back from a trip in Northern California and came back with excellent pie apples. Nothing says fall like baking to me. The smell and warmth is perfect for a place like this,” he muses. “And please, call me Castiel.”

Sam nods, taking his seat besides Dean. Dani chuckles from Dean’s other side and bumps her shoulder into his. She was one of the few people who knew the truth behind Dean’s sexuality and if she was doing that, clearly he was staring at Castiel a little too intently as he moved around the kitchen.

“You’re in looooove,” she sings at him softly.

“Shut up, Danneel. There’s no such thing as love at first sight.” He whispers back, glancing at the others to make it seem like he’s paying attention to their conversation.

“Then who was it that said he loved me after meeting me? Then when he came out told me that if he saw his future with a wife, I’d be the one?” She raises her eyebrow at him but the smile that reached her eyes told him she was joking with him.

“You’re the exception, not the rule.” He counters. “Besides, keep it up and you might be out of the running for my hand.” He stuck his tongue out playfully and she giggles before looking at Castiel.

“So I’m not one for the business aspect as I’ve already talked this over extensively with both Dean and Balthazar, but I’m curious on some more personal matters,” Dani interjects into the conversation making Dean groan.

“Of course. I’m learning to be more open. My “people skills” are a bit “rusty” after all,” Castiel explains, using finger quotes, which surprisingly Dean finds freaking adorable. Not that he would readily admit that to anyone, let alone Dani.

“Do you like pie?” She asks.

Castiel chuckles as he leans down to check the mentioned desert in the oven. “I do.”

“What’s your favorite?”

“Uh… pie flavored?” This response makes Dean and Sam snort. The poor guy sounds just as confused as the Jake from State Farm guy.

Dani rolls her eyes and smacks Dean. “Okay, do you prefer berry, apple, pecan, pumpkin…” she trails off trying to think of others.

Castiel laughs. “I love all pie. However, if I were to choose a favorite, probably pecan.”

Dani smirks at Dean, who pretends not see it while he watches Castiel’s backside. “On the subject of food, what are your thoughts on burgers?”

“Must have cheese and bacon to even begin being called a burger.”

Dani smirks again. “Favorite kind of music?”

“I listen to just about everything. I prefer jazz and classical,” Dean smirks and raises his eyebrow in challenge as Castiel continues, “for writing. But I do prefer classic rock for other times.”

Dani sticks her tongue out at Dean then asks, “That so? Got any favorites in the classic rock?”

He turns to the table, setting the carafe of coffee and the additives before taking a seat. “I have more favorite songs than I do groups or musicians. But I suppose I would have to say Jimi Hendrix, Janis Joplin and The Rolling Stones. I am partial to Led Zeppelin as well,” he gives a small smile as he pours his coffee.

Sam laughs and shakes his head. “Wow, Castiel. If you had a thing for car restoration, I would have to say you’re Dean’s perfect match.”

Dean could so kill his brother for that comment. But he won’t because the way that Castiel bit his lip to keep from smiling is completely worth every moment of this torture.

* * *

Castiel can’t believe that Dean was literally in his house. Sitting at his table as if he belonged there. When he had opened the door to find Zar, Dean and two other faces he had yet to meet, his eyes couldn’t leave Dean. His memory of the man had not done him justice. He was still just as handsome as he remembers, but his memory didn’t capture the way the freckles dusted along the apples of his cheeks or across the bridge of his nose. The way the Auburn colored eyelashes framed his impossibly green eyes. Or just how defined and full his lips were, even with the prominent cupid's bow.

Castiel was attracted to Dean. That much he knew. He wasn’t quick to find another so physically attractive as he had with Dean, but here he was. He was fairly certain that if Dean were to offer any physical contact at all he would jump at the chance to have it. 

Not that Castiel was typically a sexually active person. He was far from it. In fact, his last sexual relationship was years ago and extremely unsatisfying.

Why was he even thinking about his past relationships in relation to Dean? This is not what is going to happen. This is going to be nothing more than a business arrangement. Yes, Dean is extremely attractive and you would have to be a blind man not to notice it, but that's all Castiel is going to think on this particular subject.

Or at least, that was his intention until Balthazar mentions being Castiel's date for black tie events.

“Wh-why would-you can't just-seriously, Zar?!” Castiel sputters.

“Cassie, come on! I'm sure Dean has no problem escorting you and he can get some inside shots of you schmoozing.” Balthazar practically lit up at the idea.

“What about Dean’s girlfriend?” Castiel quickly glances at the brunette besides Dean. 

Dean and Danneel laugh, shaking their heads.

“Oh no, I learned not to shit where I eat,” Dean explains.

Danneel nods. “And while yes, he is totally my type, I don't sleep with my clients.”

Castiel gave them a dubious look. Their body language indicated a sexual relationship so if they weren’t lying, then it must have been a previous one. “My apologies for the assumption.” Castiel looks back at his friend and shakes his head.

“The contract did not stipulate any need for Dean to be an “escort” nor did it mention his requirement to accompany me to those engagements.”

“Actually,” Sam interjected, pulling the contract out of his bag. “It is stated that any functions that are a part of  _ Dimitri’s _ schedule, Dean is required to attend and  _ attempt _ to get photographs.”

Castiel felt his jaw hit the floor. He never put such a stipulation in there. He would never impose upon Dean in that manner. That was surely added after he  sent it to Balthazar for the lawyers to look over.

Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose and groans. “Zar, you didn't.”

“I don't see what the big deal is!”

Castiel glares at him before directing his attention to Dean, who looked extremely amused with the situation.

“I apologize, Dean. I don't expect you to go to these events at all, let alone as my date.” He then turns to Sam, “I will scratch that off and sign it on Dean’s copy and will not contest it.”

“Cas,” Dean’s voice brings Castiel's attention back to the man. “It's not a big deal.” He gives him a wink that makes Castiel's heart skip a beat and his stomach flutter. “It'll be fun.”


	4. What Personal Space

It’s been two weeks since Dean moved into Castiel's space. The first couple days were awkward, learning each other's routines and preferences seemed like the most logical thing. Dean had seemed prepared for Castiel's morning runs. While the man himself didn't run with Castiel, he did follow him out the door and could be found upon Castiel's return on the wooden bench that sat on the front porch with his camera on the nearby table and a cup of steaming coffee in his hands.

Castiel quickly learned that Dean was a stress cooker. He was wrapping up a project shortly after he had moved in with Castiel and was worried about the clients feedback. He spent the majority of the next three days waiting and cooking enough meals to feed them breakfast, lunch, and dinner for at least the next month and a half. Not that Castiel was complaining about this particular habit. It ensured that there was always something to munch on in the house and Dean always restocked what he used. 

Dean was also a light sleeper, or at least that’s the impression Castiel was getting since it seemed every little noise that the house made would wake Dean up. The first couple of times Castiel caught Dean walking around at night unnerved him. The house was just under three thousand square feet, so there wasn’t a lot of room for someone to hide as Castiel preferred the open feel of the ground floor and the second story was the sleeping areas. Now, though Castiel is accustomed to hearing Dean roam the halls. His heart would actually stutter at the sight of Dean patrolling around outside the house with a flashlight in hand. Something about Dean’s need to protect them was apparently a turn on for Castiel. 

Of course there were times when the close quarters made things tense. While each man had their own space to sleep and shower, there were times when their paths would cross at the most inopportune moment. Once such instance found Castiel staring at Dean’s bare chest as he stepped out of the bathroom in nothing but a fluffy black towel around his waist. Castiel knew he was staring but he could help it as his eyes roamed every inch of exposed skin on Dean. He took in the way Dean’s hair was darker when wet, and despite the fact that he didn’t style it, the thick, short locks still found a way to stick up at various angles and lay flat on his forehead. The freckles didn’t just sit on Dean’s face, they also spread across his shoulders - which were broad - and randomly down his chest and stomach. He had a tattoo on his left peck, over his heart off a pentagram emblazoned in flame which sparked all kinds of questions that Castiel desperately wanted to ask.

The best part and simultaneously the worst part, was the way Castiel’s body was reacting to everything he was seeing. From the way Dean’s hair looked to the hint of the reddish brown trail leading under the towel and the slight pouch of a man in his thirties that clearly enjoyed food but knew how to take care of himself. 

Castiel wanted this man more than he wanted to breath or eat. And that in itself was a problem because now his body was hyper aware of Dean’s presence. 

It’s not like the attraction was one sided, or at least that’s what Castiel hoped. There were times where he could feel Dean’s eyes on him, watching him, tracking his every move. Especially when Castiel did yoga in the sun room. At first, Castiel didn’t pay much mind to Dean being there watching him. He assumed that he was figuring out a good angle for a picture or something. This was confirmed the next time when Dean had his camera, stealthily moving across the room as Castiel slid from pose to pose with graceful ease. There had even been a few occasions where Dean would ask questions about the pose Castiel was currently in. Dean had shown a genuine interest and Castiel had offered to show him some basics. He even invited Dean to join him. This, much to Castiel’s enjoyment, made Dean’s  _ James Dean- _ like facade crumble as the man blushed and stuttered that he had some editing to do. 

Getting Dean flustered was Castiel’s newest game. He loved the way Dean’s freckles would stand out against the rosy color of his cheeks. Or the red that would paint the back of his neck, that Dean would try to hide with his hand by rubbing at the spot (which only made it worse). It wasn’t that Castiel liked to embarrass Dean, he just liked to see the shy smile that usually accompanied the blush. Castiel had no problem at all admitting that he was in love with Dean’s smiles. Whether it was the cocky smirk, the flirtatious grin, the wide genuinely happy smile or the small shy one that made his lips curl up just a hair, every one of his smiles made Castiel’s day and he was quickly discovering, these smiles would make even the worst day better.

* * *

 

Dean was trying his hardest to get Dani’s advice out of his head. Ever since Castiel had run into him after he was in the shower, Dean couldn’t get the look on Castiel’s face out of his mind. Had Dean not been so stunned at Castiel’s obvious appraisal of his body, he would have made a joke about the situation. He would have tried to defuse the tension. Only this tension wasn’t something that would have needed to be defused. There was something in the air that only seemed to intensify around them. Whether it was moments like this where they’ve caught each other half dressed, or just goofing off together in the kitchen or at the store - there was no denying that there was something there. 

Dean was _ definitely _ attracted to Castiel. That much was obvious in the way his gaze would linger on the man and the way Castiel starred in many dreams. But as much as Dean wanted to re-enact some of these dreams, he didn’t. He  _ couldn’t _ . He was here on a job, not to get laid. Even if Dani told him to fuck Castiel and get it out of his system, that’s just something he could not do. 

So he tried his best to do things as normal. He snapped pictures of Castiel doing the most random things from laundry to drinking his coffee while reading the paper. He took pictures of Castiel in yoga poses or of the man jogging his way up the front drive. Dean was still unsure about using that particular picture for the final submissions. He was so captivated by it. The way Castiel’s eyes were shining with happiness, smiling and giving a slight wave. Dean almost liked to pretend that the smile and wave were all for him and not the camera. As if Castiel was genuinely happy to see Dean on the porch waiting for him. Who knows, maybe he was, but Dean was almost certain he was alone in his feelings. After all, Dean Winchester didn’t believe in that lifetime movie bullshit of love at first sight. But when he thinks about the moment they first met at  _ The Green Bean _ and the moment they shared when he had first arrived to the house, it was hard to deny that he was struck by something. 

Right now, Dean was trying his best to give Castiel space. The man didn’t have his run this morning, enabling Dean to witness the ‘monster’ of a man Balthazar had tried to warn him about. Only to Dean, Castiel seemed more like an angry kitten that was awakened from his nap. Dean thought it was downright adorable. The glares over coffee, the grumbling at a wasted beautiful day. And earlier, when Dean walked past the sparsely decorated den Castiel used as his office, he could hear the low tones as the man grumbled at his computer.

Instead, Dean had made his way to the creek to the west of Castiel’s property where he took some pictures of the landscape and water. He felt at peace out there, which was saying a lot as Dean never truly felt at peace. When his jeans were wet from trodding through the foliage and his fingers numb from the cold, Dean made his way back to the house. He let himself in through the back, deciding to use the back stairs as not to disturb the writer as he worked. What Dean found after he kicked off his boots in the mudroom changed his plan. 

Castiel was at the small kitchen table, a mug of something steaming in front of him. Castiel’s head was between his hands, his elbows braced on the table as his leg bounced under it,  a sure sign that the man was anxious or upset over something.

“Cas?” Dean asks softly, gently placing his hand on the man’s shoulder and giving it a soft squeeze. He was surprised when this was met by Cas wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist tightly and sobbing into his stomach. 

“Whoa, Cas.” Dean immediately crouches down to look at Castiel. His blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, his nose red as well. Dean cups Castiel’s face, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears from under his eyes. “What’s wrong, Cas?”

“My friend…” he hiccups, shaking his head while more tears fell from his eyes. 

Dean stood up, pulling the man up with him and holding Castiel, encouraging him to hold on to him as needed. Castiel understood, his arms going around Dean’s waist again and holding as tightly as he can as if Dean was the only thing keeping him from drowning. Placing his head on Dean’s shoulder means  Dean can feel the warm tears pooling underneath Castiel’s cheek. 

Dean soothes the man, rubbing his hand up and down his back, murmuring encouraging words, letting Castiel know he’s there to talk should he need it. He wasn’t sure what had happened exactly but he knew what it was like to cry over someone’s death and he was pretty sure Castiel was grieving. 

Dean somehow managed to walk them to the couch where, once seated, Castiel was practically in Dean’s lap. Neither man said a word as the tears slowed and Castiel’s breathing returned to normal. Dean moved his head to look down at the man in his arms, almost certain that Castiel had fallen asleep. After a few moments Castiel moves his head, his eyes locked onto Dean’s. They sit there, an unspoken conversation passing between them before Castiel surges up, pressing his lips to Dean’s. Dean’s hand moves to Castiel’s face, holding him in place in an attempt to keep him there longer, finally getting to feel his lips against his own. They were softer than Dean thought, despite their constant chapped appearance.

Castiel pulls away first, his eyes dancing across Dean’s face. Dean only smiles at him, his thumb brushing along Castiel’s bottom lip, wanting so much to suck on it and see if he can make Castiel moan.

“I’m going to go lay down,” Castiel says softly, patting his hand on Dean’s thigh before removing himself from Dean’s arms. 

Dean bites his lip, trying to keep the disappointment from showing. “Just yell if you need something,” Dean tells him.

He watches from his spot on the couch as Castiel makes his way upstairs. He listens to the footsteps through the hall fade out as he reaches his room. Dean lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding and fights the urge to go up after Cas. 

 


	5. Suit and Tie Me Up

It’s been a few weeks since Dean offered Castiel comfort while grieving the loss of his friend. Meg had been an important person to Castiel and to hear that she was taken from the world was a tremendous loss. One that Castiel is sure he will feel in the deepest part of his bones for a long time. He’s not sure what he would have done had he been alone at the time. He did know that having Dean there was like a breath of fresh air. He hadn’t meant to kiss Dean but at that moment, he couldn’t have stopped it if he tried. This, of course, made Castiel’s desire for the man increase. 

He groans and leans his head back onto his chair. He was trying to get the latest chapter of his book out and was stuck on the part in which the main character’s love interest is introduced. For one reason of another, Castiel couldn’t conjure up the perfect companion for him. The audible click in the otherwise quiet room startles him into opening his eyes to see the bright jade eyes of Dean’s own looking down at him.

“You know, I couldn’t resist that angle. I think I’ll label it ‘Cas needs a chiropractor after this book.’ It’s going to be a big hit in all the publishing firms,” he teases.

“Two problems with that plan,” Cas counters. “One, you’re not taking photos of Castiel, but of Dimitri and that title wouldn’t work,” Castiel smiles as Dean’s playful grin falters. “And two, you used your cell phone for that picture, which tells me that wasn’t an official  _ Winchester Photography _ photo.”

“Touche,” Dean concedes. “So what’s got you trying to break your neck over here?” He asks, moving around Castiel’s chair and leaning against the desk. “Anything I can help you with?”

Castiel sighs. “Actually yes, there’s several things.”

Dean folds his arms across his chest. “Alright, hit me.”

Castiel chuckles at his enthusiasm and grabs his notepad and pen. “Alright. The problem I’m currently having is the love interest for my main character. I can’t visualize the perfect counterpart for him.”

“Tell me about him.”

“He’s a man from Earth. Mechanic by trade that works with NASA. Not an astronaut or anything. In fact, most people on Earth that know him think he’s a simple guy. More brawn than brains but that’s really not the case. He’s smart. Like could seriously be on a launch team or even an astronaut because he is  _ that _ smart.”

“I would imagine so if he’s a mechanic for NASA,” Dean interjects.

“Right!” Castiel huffs a laugh at Dean’s warm smile. “So he’s got a base knowledge of literal rocket science but prefers to work on the engines and such. Well, something happens that sends him through a wormhole where he’s now met with other species and new technologies. Things that he’s only seen them do in Star Trek which, for him, is a childhood dream come true.”

Dean chuckles. “I like this guy.” 

Castiel can’t help but grin at that. “Well, the thing is, I’m trying to envision someone worthy of his affection. He’s a kind hearted guy. Cares for his family back home and is trying to find his way back to his planet but this one person would be the one to make him question everything.”

“Someone that would come into the room guns blazing, being a badass mother fucker and then leave, leaving him stunned and in love,” Dean adds and shrugs. “Or hard as well.”

Castiel laughs at the last part and nods. “Exactly. But again when I try to picture her, I can’t. And that’s not to say women can’t be ‘badass mother fuckers’, as you put it.”

“Of course not, Princess Leia, Wonder Woman, and Xena are fine examples.”

“Agreed,” Castiel nods absentmindedly, doodling a question mark on his notebook. 

“Does it have to be a she?” Dean asks quietly. 

Castiel tilts his head to consider Dean’s question further. “Do you think a man would be worthy of his affection?”

Dean shrugs. “You don’t have to make it love at first sight. Maybe he gradually falls for this alien who looks so much like a human that sometimes he has a hard time remembering that this person is really a powerful being.”

Castiel hums and jots down notes as Dean talks. “So make it an alien that looks human?”

“Yeah, maybe your space cowboy had a type back home. Like he was into someone who had dark hair and light eyes so this alien would have dark hair that always looked as if he just got done having sex, and his eyes would shine brighter than the stars, taking his breath away when they lock onto his. And he’s built like a brick shithouse.”

Castiel blinks in confusion. He rewinds the words in his head but it just doesn’t make sense. Dean utterly lost him at the last part. “I beg your pardon?”

“What?” Dean asks innocently.

“What do you mean by ‘built like a brick shithouse,’ Dean?”

“He’s stacked. But you wouldn’t know it. Like, he’s got thick shoulders, biceps and thighs. Wider than most male’s hips and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of.”

Castiel laughs and shakes his head. “I have never seen a man the way you described, Dean.” Dean looks at him like he has grown two heads. “What?” Castiel asks.

“Do you not see your reflection in the mirrors, Cas? Because I just described you.”

Castiel feels the heat on his face. “You’d bounce a quarter off my butt?”

Dean chuckles and pushes himself off the desk before leaning close to Castiel’s ear. “I would grab it, squeeze it, bite it, lick it, even fuck it if you’d let me.”

Castiel swallows thickly at Dean’s comment. He wants that. He wants it all. He goes to ask if that was an offer when his phone rings, interrupting him. “This conversation is far from over, Dean.” Castiel warns before answering the phone.

Dean winks and leaves Cas in the den alone to take his call. It was only Balthazar reminding him that Dimitri needs to make an appearance to the publishers winter formal. Castiel rolled his eyes and asked if he could just skip it by saying that he had obligations to their firm to finish the novel on time. Balthazar laughed and told him no. Demanding that Dean is present as per the contract. 

Castiel happens to look up at the exact second Dean has his camera pointed at him. He tries to act natural which - given the conversation Balthazar was mainly having with himself - would normally mean that Castiel would be rolling his eyes but he can’t help but smile at Dean, who was now moving around the room getting shots from various angles. 

“Stop staring at your new sex toy and answer me, Cassie!” Balthazar snaps from the other end of the line.

“Why would you say such a thing?!” Castiel hopes his friend can hear how offended he was at the insinuation.

“So you haven’t slept with him yet?”

“What?! Zar, seriously?!”

“I just figured with Meg’s death and all...”

“That I’d what, Zar? Sleep with the first warm body I could?” Castiel glances up, relieved to see that Dean has left the room again. 

“It’s what she would have wanted.”

“Horseshit. What she would have wanted, Zar, was for me to be married to her. Playing house with her. Remember I was her ‘one that got away’? Her unicorn? I don’t think she’d be happy to know I was sleeping with Dean.”

“So you are then?”

“Oh my God, Balthazar! Dean and I will be at the event next week. Leave me alone!” Furiously, he ends the call, throwing his phone on the desk and groaning in frustration. He loves his friend, he truly does, but there were times when Castiel wishes he could throttle the man.

There was a knock and Castiel looks over to see Dean standing in the doorway, leaning against the jam. “I was wondering if you would like to help me with an idea later?”

“Sure,” he readily agrees. 

“Awesome, I need you to wear black pants and a black shirt, and when it gets dark, we’ll go out into the yard.”

Castiel nods his consent, curious as to what has Dean so excited. 

While Castiel cleans up the kitchen after the meal Dean made, Dean was outside checking on something. Castiel watches from the window as Dean set up his camera with the tripod and uses the hose on the grass out back. He was even more curious as to what was going on, just from seeing Dean setup a second camera that seems to be focused on the stars above.

When Dean comes back in he grins at Castiel. “It’s time,” he says before taking off towards his room.

Castiel follows, only turning aside to his own room and changing from his green v-neck shirt to the requested black one. Remembering that Dean had used the hose and that it was cold enough to snow lately, Castiel also pulls out his old black work boots and puts them onto his feet. Once they were secure, he grabs his black trench coat and jogs back down the stairs to meet Dean in the mudroom. 

“Good thinking with the coat,” Dean says, inclining a his head in the direction of the coat draped over Castiel’s arm. 

Castiel gives a small shrug and watches as Dean’s eyes assessed the rest of him. He knows that the shirt he’s wearing is a bit tight in his upper arms, shoulders and chest, But it was truly the only black shirt he owned.

Dean leads him outside and hands him two blue glow sticks. He follows Dean’s instructions as the photographer looks through the lense of the camera on the tripod, making sure that Castiel hits the right mark to be in the center of the frame.

“Okay,” Dean says, coming closer to Castiel. “I want you to use those two to write something in the air. But you have to do it backwards so that way it comes out to where we can read it on print.”

Castiel laughs and writes the word hello. “This seems like something you’d expect on a teenager’s myspace page.”

Dean was already back by the camera and was now howling with laughter. “Dude, way to show your age. It’s all about Tumblr or Facebook these days.”

“Dimitri has one of those,” Cas says casually as he writes his name.

“Seriously? How is that possible? I thought there were no known pictures of Dimitri.”

_ Okay _ , Castiel writes. “Correct. Charlie has my profile picture as my first published works. Charlie is my social media wiz kid. If you ever talk to Dimitri on Twitter, ninety-five percent of the time that’s her.”

Now that Castiel has been in the dark a bit his eyes have adjusted and he can see Dean move closer. “Do you ever go on there at talk to your fans?”

_ Lust _ , he writes and giggles a bit. “Yeah. About five percent of the time. I get intimidated when they start to ask personal questions.”

“You’re not big on the whole sharing thing are you?” Dean asks as he lights something. 

“No, not really. When you grow up in and out of the foster system, you learn to keep things to yourself and not to form any real attachments, even to your own blood.”

“Christ, I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Why? You didn’t die while giving birth to me, nor did you abandon your twins before their first birthday. Sure, I have some shitty experiences but I think they make me who I am. And if it wasn’t for the Novaks taking in my brother James and then looking for me, or the Krushnics, I wouldn’t be here.”

“That’s true,” Dean agrees. He had heard that Cas used a name that his family had given him for his pen name, but hadn't  known the details. He feels like Cas is opening up to him, and that makes Dean feel something special. 

He drops his lighter as something sparks to life in his hand. “Toss the glow sticks down and hold this.”

Castiel readily follows his instructions once more. “A sparkler? I didn’t think these were available yet.”

Dean laughs. “They’re not. I bought a ton of them in July for a wedding I’m doing in January. I had this idea to use them for some night shots with the wedding party but I need to test the theory of it first.”

“That’s why the glow sticks.”

Dean laughs as another stick starts to spark in his hand. “No, that was just me seeing what I can get you to do for the sake of my art.” Castiel can tell Dean is teasing from the sound of his voice. “So, I have no rhyme or reason for this. I just want you to run around and have fun. I have the camera set on a timer so it’s taking pictures as we speak and it’s on a burst setting for action shots. 

“And the second one?” Castiel asks, remembering the one that was setup to capture the stars. 

“Overnight exposure. I’ve done one at least once a week since I’ve been here.”

Castiel doesn’t know what to say to that. Suddenly, Metallica's  _ Master of Puppets _ starts to play and Castiel laughs. “Seriously?” he asks, watching Dean running around with his own sparkler. 

“Eat me, Cas.” Dean responds with a laugh. 

Soon the two men were running around in circles in the yard, waving the sparkler around and stopping occasionally to get a new one lit. Castiel added jumps in his movements, making Dean laugh louder with each leap.

“Come here, Cas. I have an idea.” 

Castiel moves to stand near Dean. Dean hands him his sparkler to hold and Castiel lets the man position him so that he was standing with his side to the camera. “Okay, point the sparkler at the camera with your left hand.”

Castiel watches as Dean steps in close to him, taking his own live sparkler. Instead of pointing the thing at the camera, he was pointing it in the opposite direction. “Eyes on me, okay?”

“What are you hoping to get with this shot?” Castiel asks, looking up at Dean.

“The idea is to have the bride and groom kiss and the hope is that the sparklers are enough light to capture it.”

“Oh, so we need to test the lighting?” Castiel asks breathlessly. He isn’t aware that he was leaning into Dean’s personal space until he feels the air from Dean’s breathing fan across his face. 

“Yeah.”

“So the more we emulate a kiss the-” he doesn't get to finish the statement before Dean’s mouth is swallowing his words. The kiss is tender but hungry. As if there was a pressure building inside of Dean, threatening to explode if Castiel isn’t there to catch it. 

He feels Dean’s tongue along the seam of his mouth and he whimpers, grasping Dean’s shirt in his free hand as he opens up to Dean. Dean’s own free hand grips at Castiel’s waist, pulling him closer. The silken feel of Dean’s tongue against his own makes him moan, Castiel’s hand sliding up Dean’s chest and cupping the back of his neck. Castiel tilts his head slightly, angling it better to kiss Dean deeper. 

The music has stopped and the sparks have died from the sticks in their hands by the time they finally break apart for air. Dean’s forehead is pressed to Castiel’s.

“Thanks.” He says softly.

Castiel grins at him. “Any time.”

* * *

 

“Hey, Dean, did you want to drive or should I have Zar send a car?” Castiel asks through the door. 

Dean can’t help but chuckle. The poor guy had been a nervous wreck about the dinner all day and now that they were both supposed to be getting ready for it, it seemed like his nerves were on overdrive. “I can drive us. I think Baby could use a chance to eat up some pavement.”

“If you drive, you can’t drink.”

Dean shakes his head and steps into the black pants. “Not a problem, Cas. I have to work remember.”

“True. But I’m drinking. I hate doing these things.”

Dean listens for Castiel’s retreating footsteps and continues to dress in the simple black tuxedo. Just as he is putting on the finishing touches with his tie there is another knock at the door. 

“It’s open, Cas.”

Castiel peeks his head in and gives him a sheepish smile. “I was wondering if I could trouble you for one more favor.”

Dean nods and tucks his tie into his waistcoat. “What’s up?”

“Could you help me with my tie?” Castiel asks as he steps into Dean’s room. Dean looks him over quickly.  _ Goddamn _ , he thinks,  _ Castiel was definitely built to wear a tux _ . The tailored pants were showing off his muscled legs in a flattering way. The white shirt, right now, has its sleeves rolled up to his elbows and the charcoal colored waistcoat hangs open, no doubt waiting for his tie to be done before buttoning. 

Dean motions him closer and holds his hand out for the tie. He expects a solid black tie, much like his own but was given a burgundy striped one. He lifts an eyebrow in question but doesn’t say anything. 

“If I’m forced to go to these things and they have a strict dress code, such as black tie, I tend to add my own flair.” Castiel speaks up, answering the silent question.

Dean feels his lip twitch into the hint of a smile at that. “Windsor or regular knot?” he asks Castiel whose eye widen. 

“I didn’t know there were more than one!” Dean smiles at him and starts to give him a Windsor knot. “Where did you learn to do that?” Castiel asks as Dean smooths the tie down and starts to button the waistcoat for him.

“Sammy. He was horrible at ties growing up but was hell bent on wearing one to church every Sunday. So like most things, I looked that shit up and practiced until I knew I could tie his with confidence.”

Castiel was giving him a dopey smile and Dean rolls his eyes. “What?” He asks.

“You're amazing.”

Dean scoffs and shoves Castiel playfully. “Go get your coats, I'll meet you in the car.”

The ride to, as well as the event itself, was uneventful. Dean was introduced to other party goers as Dimitri’s date. Many exclaim that they had no idea he was gay and Dean hears Cas muttering under his breath things like, “How would they if no one knows me?”.

Dean had brought along his gear bag which carried both his Canon as well as his point and shoot. He doesn't use the latter often as he can't really manipulate shutter, lense, or aperture settings but it’s handy in a pinch and because of it he’s able to get rapid shots of Castiel interacting with the guests at the dinner. He even takes the stereotypical food pictures. But man, those deviled eggs with the candied bacon at the cocktail hour were a  _ thing of beauty _ , and utterly delicious.

Speaking of utterly delicious, Castiel fits that category well. He was currently walking around the party without his coat, his sleeves once again rolled to his elbows. Just in the waistcoat and tie he was sexy as fuck. Especially the more he starts to relax. Of course, Dean is now a bit worried that Castiel will get too relaxed and get them both in trouble. So Dean follows Castiel's lead, packing up his cameras, taking off his own coat and rolling the sleeves up. He also loosens his tie before heading to the bar and finally grabbing himself a drink.

Dean lingers in the crowd, smiling and chatting with other book agents, editors, and writers. He sips his whiskey over ice from the tumbler in his hands, watching everyone mill about. He’s not particularly looking for Castiel but his subconscious can't help but look for the man.

As weird as it sounds, his body reacts to him before his brain registers that Cas is near. Like an invisible string is held between the two of them, slack when apart, but pulling taut when they are near each other. Dean’s eyes lock onto bright blue ones, heir owner walking to him with purpose.

Dean smiles at him when Castiel stops before him a look of determination on his face.

“What's on your mind, Cas?” He teases before taking another sip.

Castiel's eyes track the glass, watching Dean. A thrill goes through Dean at the near predatory gleam in Castiel's look. Castiel takes Dean's glass, quickly finishing the amber liquid and wincing as it runs down his throat. He shakes it off though and stands closer to Dean.

He’s so close that his chest is pressing against Dean’s and Dean feels his own heart starting to race as Castiel's breathing picks up. Humid air fans against the side of Dean’s neck, the spicy musk of Castiel's after shave making him dizzy. Castiel's lips brush against Dean’s ear, causing him to bite back the moan that wants to escape him.

“I want you in the most carnal of ways, Dean Winchester,” Cas says, Dean’s body responding appropriately. “But I’m  _ not _ waiting until we're home because I would probably fuck you in your car and I don't want to defile such a beautiful piece of machinery.”

Dean's hands grip Castiel's waist, holding him tightly to him as he lets his senses combined with Castiel's words drown him. “Then what do you want, Cas?” He asks hoarsely.

“What I want,  _ Dean _ ,” his voice is lower than Dean has ever heard it and it goes straight to his dick. “Is for you to fuck me. All. Night. Long,” Castiel finishes his statement by gently biting Dean’s earlobe. When Castiel pulls away, he slides something into the pocket of Dean’s waistcoat. “Room 352. Don't keep me waiting, Dean. I  _ will  _ start without you.”

Dean tries to follow a step behind Castiel but what feels like everyone keeps stopping him along the way. People want to talk to him about his work and if he would be interested in doing a shoot with them. Normally, this would have been a networking dream come true, but right now, all he can focus on was Castiel most likely naked and fucking himself open for Dean. 

Dean needs to get the fuck up there and quick. He waits - impatiently - for the elevator and of course everyone and their fucking mother needs to use the same one, making the ride that much slower. At least, that’s Dean’s story. It certainly wasn’t the anxious anticipation making the time crawl by slower as he waits to reach the right floor.

Of course, that’s when the part of him that was raised to be a gentleman and respectful starts to make an appearance. 

Yes, he was horny. Yes, he wanted Castiel like he wanted air to breathe. Yes, he dreamed about their bodies moving in tandem. About the moans they’d make together, what it would feel like thrusting inside of Cas, of watching the normally reserved and composed man fall apart in Dean’s hands. 

But he also didn’t want to jeopardize things. Not that he was thinking of the business potential any more, but rather the long term potentials. Yes, Dani was probably right in her in assumption that Dean was in love with Cas. That was the one thing holding him back from taking Cas against the nearest surface. The fact that he was in love with this man and didn’t want to lose his friendship. He didn’t want to screw things up over sex. But it had been a very long time and he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t want Castiel in his bed.

By the time Dean steps off the elevator, he’s made up his mind. He loosens his tie while whistling his favorite song. Sliding his key into the reader on the door, he waits for the green light and the click of the lock mechanism disengaging. 


	6. Misunderstandings Are Worse Than Hangovers

Dean stretches his arms above his head. His body is sore but in a good way and he smiles to himself. He reaches out besides him and frowns at the empty space. It’s cool, as if the occupant had never been there to begin with. He rolls over onto his side to face the bathroom door, where the shower can be heard. The sheet moves further down his hips and he debates whether or not to move it back up to a decent level, only to stop in mid thought when Castiel walks out of the bathroom

He has a towel around his waist and another draped across his shoulders. Dean takes in his muscular physique. He remembers fondly spending an awful long time kissing and biting his way up and down Castiel’s well defined legs and arms. Running his tongue along his chest, stopping to give special attention to the freckles along his stomach and hips and even to the mole above his right nipple.

The bed dips under Castiel’s weight and Dean’s eyes move to his. Castiel crawls on his hands and knees, his movement’s forcing Dean to lay on his back. Castiel’s head is hovering over his as he places a hand on either side of Dean’s head on the pillow.

“I thought you were still sleeping,” Castiel says softly as the minty smell of toothpaste washes over Dean. 

Dean nods and pulls Castiel closer. “I could say the same for you.”

“I went to Target and got some extra supplies. Then went for a run.”

Dean makes a face that has Castiel chuckling. “I could have given you some cardio, Cas,” Dean says with a suggestive wiggle of his eyebrows.

Castiel starts to kiss along Dean's jaw slowly, moving his way down his chest, effectively cutting off Dean’s train of thought. Castiel’s trail doesn’t stop there. Oh no, when he’s done lavishing Dean’s nipples with attention, he moves further down to Dean’s dick, which is eager to see what Castiel has in mind.

Dean lets out a curse as he feels the long lick from the base of his dick, up along the vein before the same tongue twirls around the head of his cock. Dean sits himself on his elbows, watching Castiel as his blue eyes lock onto his. Dean sees his cock disappear into Cas’ mouth and drops back onto the bed. He fights against the urge to thrust into the warm wetness, wanting to let Cas take the lead. 

He gasps when Castiel starts to fondle his balls, slowly massaging them. The sensation so different in contrast to the speed in which Cas’ mouth is bobbing along his dick. He was utterly lost in the feeling of Cas’ warm mouth wrapped around him. Dean feels Cas’s hand move lower, massaging the sensitive area below his balls.

“Cas,” Dean moaned, tugging at the long dark locks, pulling the man up.

Cas makes a sound that Dean would almost qualify as a whine but pulls himself up. Using his sinfully talented tongue up Dean’s body, moaning when Dean’s tongue massages its way against his own when their lips meet.

“Want you,” Cas pants into Dean’s mouth when they break for air. Dean nods, words merely a concept to him as the need in Cas’ voice washes over him, his voice impossibly deeper. Without being prompted, Dean reaches over to grab the bottle of lube that was quickly snatched from his hands.

Watching Cas stretch himself, getting himself ready for Dean was mesmerizing. Definitely the best porn Dean has ever seen. Before he even has a chance to comprehend what was going on, Cas’s slick hand was stroking him and lining his cock up to Cas’ waiting hole.

Castiel moans, sliding himself down and letting Dean stretch him more. The tightness makes it harder for Dean to restrain from grabbing Cas’ hips and holding him in place as he thrusts into him. He bites his lip - hard enough that he’s surprised there wasn’t blood drawn - as he watches the gorgeous man above him. All tanned toned muscle. Dean takes the moment to memorize the way Cas looks in this minute. The way his head falls back, jaw slack, eyes closed in pleasure. Every little twitch his muscles make as he adjusts to Dean’s thickness inside him.

Cas leans himself forward slightly, his long, slender fingers splayed along Dean’s stomach as he pushes his hands up along the taut skin to brace them on Dean’s shoulders to give himself leverage. Dean’s own hands massage the flesh of Cas’ muscled thighs and work their way up to his hips. Cas brings his lips to Dean’s where he places gentle nips along Dean’s lower lip, slowly rolling his hips

Gradually, they both find a rhythm, increasing their movements as they both chase the climax they were seeking. Often times, Dean’s pants and moans were captured by Cas’ own mouth. It wasn’t until Cas’s body starts shaking, does Dean take over. Sitting up and wrapping his arms around Cas, holding the other man to himself until he flips them. Cas is now splayed out on his back under Dean as Dean’s hips snap against Cas. Fast, punishing thrusts, pushing him deeper and harder into Cas, making the other man lose his shit as he clenches around Dean’s cock, milking him as Cas comes loudly.

Not long after, Dean follows, pulsing inside Cas as the other man cradles his face, peppering it with kisses and praises. 

* * *

 

As much as Castiel would hate to say it, Balthazar was a evil genius. If it hadn’t been for him sneaking in the stipulation about Dean attending black tie events, Castiel was pretty sure that they would not have had one of the most memorable nights ever. He chuckles softly.  In truth, most of his memorable nights have been with Dean. 

A part of him couldn’t help but worry. It’s not like there was a consent issue. Dean asked Castiel repeatedly if he was sure that he wanted to pursue what they were doing. Dean had only had half of a drink, so Castiel knew that he was in sound mind as well and while yes, he himself had had a few drinks, he knew his limit and wasn’t prepared to expose Dean to his actual level of alcohol tolerance.

No, it wasn’t the consent that was the issue that was now digging at Castiel’s brain. It was the fact that Dean was contractually obligated to be there. Sure, he said he had no problem with it and Castiel would be lying if he said he didn’t think that Dean looked good in his formal wear because good lord, Castiel wants to take him to other events just to see him in that tux again. ZZ Top had it right, granted they should have said “everyone’s crazy for a sharp dressed man,” but that’s neither here nor there. 

While Dean wasn’t under any obligation to actually sleep with Castiel, he couldn’t help feeling like maybe Dean didn’t feel that way. Like, maybe to Dean, spending the night with Castiel was part of his obligation. Part of his job. That part of Castiel’s brain is the loudest and  he can’t help but dwell on it, his stomach rolling at the idea the longer he does. 

With Dean, the sex was incredible. The passion that was felt was beyond anything Castiel had ever experienced and he wasn’t one to take the physical act of intimacy lightly. It was the kind of feeling people write books about, and he should know. He didn’t want to believe that it was faked but he also knew that he couldn’t let himself believe otherwise.

Before either man knew it, the holidays were approaching and Dean invited Castiel to join his family. Up until now, Castiel hadn’t necessarily declined so much as avoided the RSVP. He knew it was the weak thing to do, but he can see how excited Dean was about the holidays and doesn’t want to be the reason to bring down his spirit. 

They were still acting as roommates, but none of their physical relationship - or moment of weakness, he supposes - carried over. Castiel was frustrated and, honestly, starting to feel depressed not knowing where they were. He knew that they were friends, that much was clear. He was even considered a part of Dean’s inner circle as the two often hosted dinners and games at Castiel’s place. Because of these nights, he’s been given the opportunity to learn more about Dean and his friends. And, unsurprisingly, Dean and his circle hit it off well with Charlie. 

All of Castiel’s fears and self doubts about that fateful night of the winter ball even started to seep into his writing. He had tried to use the emotions waging war within him to create conflict with his characters but had intended to keep them all at bay around Dean. A task he fails at one night when a storm raged not only within Castiel but outside as well. 

Dean was working peacefully at the coffee table, editing the latest engagement photos he had done for Charlie. Castiel was impressed with Dean’s creativity, using Charlie’s love of gaming and her fiancee’s love of mythical creatures to create images that looked as if they were from Shakespeare’s  _ A Midsummer Night’s Dream _ . They had managed to do the photos on a particularly warm and sunny day, while the snow was sparse, and the way the camera had caught the lighting showed prisms of rainbows over the two lovers. Castiel would never deny that Dean was talented. That much was obvious even from their chance meeting at the coffee shop. He’d been able to tell by the way Dean took in his surroundings after requesting permission, before capturing Castiel’s photo. 

The thing was, and surprisingly to Castiel, he finds himself jealous. He’s envious of Dean’s ability to sweep everything under the rug. To act as if nothing happened between them. As if he didn’t feel the spark - no pun intended - from their kiss that night with the sparklers. As if casual sex was perfectly okay when you’re living together. He’s jealous of Dean’s creativity and his ability to focus. Jealous of the way he treated his car as if it were a lover. Jealous of the smiles and laughs and fond looks that he seems to give everyone but Castiel.

“Cas?” Dean’s voice makes Castiel’s thoughts come to an abrupt stop. “Everything okay?”

“Fine,” Castiel grumbles from his spot at the kitchen table. 

“You sure, man? Cause you’re looking at your cup of tea as if it personally offended you and you want to smite it.” 

“I apologize. I was focused on my story-line and frustrated at the…” he tilts his head, not looking at Dean as he chose his words carefully, so that he won’t give away his true meaning. “Corner I’ve written myself into.”

“Oh?” Dean asks, his interest in the subject clear in his tone. “Need to bounce ideas again?”

Castiel shrugs. “I don’t want to bore you.”

Dean gives a soft laugh and makes his way into the kitchen. “It’s not boring, Cas. I find your methods for writing interesting. Truth be told, I’m actually envious of your ability to turn an idea into something worthy of publishing.” Castiel blinks at that, at the incongruity of Dean thinking that way and something must have shown on his face, because Dean spoke somewhat defensively. “What? Dude! You’re extremely talented and you make your story lines and the people feel like real people.”

“You’ve read my work?” Cas says in surprise, eyes widening.

“Yes.” Dean rolls his eyes. “I  _ can  _ read you know.”

“No-Yes-I mean of course you can. I just didn’t think…”

Dean shrugs. “Charlie let me borrow one after she found out I liked  _ Firefly _ .” He sits across from Castiel, rolling the beer bottle between his hands. “So hit me, what’s going on?


	7. Holiday Faux Pas

Dean isn’t a fool. He can tell something is bugging Cas. Something is eating away at the man and every attempt he makes to get him to talk to Dean is brushed off. 

At first, Dean doesn’t really think anything of it. After all, he understands what it’s like to work under a deadline. For Dean, since he was his own boss, he stresses pretty badly around the time of a deadline. Often times becoming a crazed person when he didn’t think the project was going the way he thought it should. He couldn’t even begin to imagine what it was like for Cas, having people breathing down his neck to get the book done so it can go through the lengthy process of being published. 

But the longer Cas brushed him off, the more Dean thought about it. Cas started acting weird ever since they got back from the formal thing he had to go too. It was like the line they crossed that night had been too far. 

Maybe Cas felt it was a mistake. 

Dean didn’t think it was a mistake. In fact, for Dean, he felt it was something that was meant to be. He had been patiently waiting for a sign from Cas letting Dean know that he wasn’t the only one s willing to jump over the cliff.

Of course he never got it. 

Then there was the bizarre talk about his book. The situation Cas described sounded very similar to what they had experienced and Dean found himself wondering if Cas was projecting. If he felt as hurt and betrayed as his main character. Or was he the one that was confused and uncertain as to what to do next, because it was outside the comfort zone, like the alien love interest? Whichever it was, or perhaps Dean was just reading too much into it, Dean was honest with Cas about how it should play out. If his hero wants something with the other person, he needs to give him a sign or let him in. While yes, the mysterious and quiet type can be sexy, it can be pretty fucking frustrating when they’ve made so much progress and suddenly the walls are back up. 

Instead of working as intended, Dean’s words only seem to frustrate Cas even more, his face doing that scowl that Dean only really saw when he hadn’t had his morning run and the coffee pot wasn’t percolating fast enough. Dean wished he knew what he could say to make Cas feel better about, well, everything. But the man had him so confused. And again, making him wonder how Cas truly felt. 

Dean even attempted to include him in his Thanksgiving plans, inviting Cas to join him at Dani’s place for dinner. For weeks Castiel steadily ignored the invite to the point that Dean thought perhaps he needed the invite from the hostess herself. Apparently he was wrong. Dani had called, extending the invitation and informing Cas that he was always welcome at her place as he always welcomed her to his. According to Dani, he grumbled something about charity cases and not wanting to be witness to them, before clearly declining with regrets as he has a deadline to fulfill.

Of course, his refusal to join only added fuel to Dani’s fire about the potential relationship between Cas and Dean. Dean _ hated _ that dinner, having to listen to his ex turned manager tease him about his current infatuation. Sam even went as far as suggesting that perhaps Cas was jealous of his relationship with Dani. Which was ridiculous because a - there was no relationship, just friendship  and b - that would mean that Cas wanted more, something Dean did not believe.

The weekend after thanksgiving, after spending some much needed time with his brother, Dean was excited to get back to Cas. Even though they had a bit of a strain on their relationship, he still enjoyed the man’s company, when Cas would open up to him. What he hadn’t expected is what he came home - well temporarily at least - to.  Cas was a shell of who he was before. The fridge was barren. He had at least a week’s worth of growth on his face and Dean suspected that Cas hadn’t once changed his clothes either.

Dean pushed him into the bathroom, stating that he was going to shower and trim - after all it was really Cas decision if he wanted to shave or not - and meet him downstairs for dinner and shopping. The forced intervention seemed to have worked for a brief period of time as Cas almost reminded Dean of the man he was before the event the two had gone to.

Christmas rapidly approached and Castiel still refused to give Dean a straight answer as to whether or not he was going to go to his Jimmy’s for the holiday. A part of Dean had hoped that he wouldn’t so that Cas could come to South Dakota with Dean. But he didn’t want to push it either. 

That is until James called, leaving a message on Cas’ machine telling him that this year they were going to have Christmas with his wife Amelia’s family and that he knew how uncomfortable they make Cas. He also suggested that Cas takes some time to meet new people or even spend time with his ‘cute roommate’. 

When Cas still dodged the question about what his plans were, Dean takes matters into his own hands.

_ Enough is Enough. _

* * *

Castiel is in his study, trying to write a love scene that was pivotal to his sub plot when he hears booted foot falls in his room above. He knows that Dean is upstairs preparing to leave for the holidays but, as far as Castiel knew, there was no reason for Dean to be in Castiel’s bedroom.

Deciding to go investigate, Castiel makes his way up the stairs to find his garment bag and suitcase open on his bed. Castiel leans against the door frame of his room and watches as Dean exits his closet with two dress shirts. Castiel tilts his head, watching Dean as he holds the two choices out at arm's length, giving them each a critical eye. 

“Dean?” Castiel calls out, making the other man startle.

“Cas!” Dean's voice is slightly muted from his location in the closet.

“You seem to have thought that your shirts are in my closet…”

Dean laughs and makes his way to Castiel. “No, I’m all packed.” He held an emerald green shirt against Castiel’s chest, his eyes taking in the overall effect before replacing it with the navy colored shirt. “I’m helping you by packing your shit.”  
  
Castiel’s eyebrow lifts at that. “My things?”  
  
Dean nods before he walking back to the bed, placing both shirts there. “I got everything but your boxers and toiletries. Where do you keep your toiletry bag?”  
  
“My what?” Castiel asks, still not moving from his spot.  
  
“Toiletry bag. You know, a bag that you pack like your comb, razor and toothbrush?”  
  
“You mean my shower bag?”  
  
Dean pauses mid step to look at Castiel. “Your what now?”  
  
Castiel rolls his eyes and moves to go to the bathroom. “It’s my shower bag. I keep my travel supplies in it so I never leave home without something,” he calls over his shoulder. He grabs the cloth bag from under the sink and heads back towards Dean. “I don't understand why you're packing my things.”

Dean looks at him like he was dense, holding his hand out for the toiletry bag. “Because you're going to South Dakota with me.”

“I wouldn’t want to impose…”

Dean shakes his head. “Not imposing, Cas. My Uncle and Aunt are excited to have another body there.” He goes back into the closet. “And this way you finally get to meet Jess in the flesh. Cas, where’s your damn running shoes?”

Castiel sighs, knowing that this was a losing battle and that Dean would surely win. He knew that Dean was upset to find out that Castiel was alone on Thanksgiving but he honestly had a deadline and can’t afford to take time away from writing. 

“My shoes are by the washer. But honestly, Dean, I think I should stay here. I have a deadline coming up and should focus-” Castiel’s excuses were cut off when Dean places his hand over Castiel’s mouth.

“We both have a deadline, Cas. Our contract is nearly up. My Uncle Bobby’s is quiet. You can bring that nifty invention called a laptop to do your writing. Please stop finding excuses to exclude yourself from my invitations or I’m going to start thinking you don’t want to be around me.”

Castiel’s eyes widen at the hurt expression that crossed Dean’s face. He tried to protest and tell Dean that he would want nothing more than to spend time with him. He knew that their time together was coming to a close, but honestly he doesn’t know what to think about their situation anymore and found himself putting an unwanted distance between them, often using the writing as a viable excuse.

“Now, are you going to be a good boy and help me finish packing your shit so we can get dinner started and hit the hay early, so we can be out of here early in the morning, or do I have tie you and your laptop to the roof of Baby while you curse a blue streak the entire trip out?”

* * *

The drive from McLeod, Oregon to Sioux Falls, South Dakota took the two men roughly a day and a half. And that was only because Castiel insisted that they stop overnight in Rock Springs, Wyoming. Had anyone else complained about stopping so soon, Castiel may have strangled them with his own bare hands, but he found it rather endearing when Dean grumbled his protest as he pulled off interstate 80. 

Castiel also found it endearing that Dean was trying to save money at a motel that neither man had ever heard of. Castiel wouldn’t allow Dean to put them into such accommodations, instead insisting that they stay at one of the bigger chain hotels. Dean, of course wanted to help pay for at least half of the cost of the room but Castiel was able to convince him to buy them dinner instead.

After an uneventful night of sleep, the two men made it out of Rock Springs before the sun came up to make it to their destination before dinner. Castiel was overwhelmed with what awaited the two men when they got to Dean’s Uncle Bobby’s. He anticipated seeing Sam and his fiance Jessica. And of course Bobby and his wife Ellen. But he had not expected the likes of Ellen’s daughter Joanna nor her boyfriend Ash. Also staying at the Singer house were  the town sheriff and her adopted daughter Alex. 

Everyone made an effort to make Castiel feel welcomed. Jo asked him to help her with the garland, the two of them stringing up the cranberries and popcorn, periodically slapping Dean’s hand away as he tried to steal the supplies. He listened to Sam and Bobby debate recent political events, even surprising them both with his own thoughts on the topics.

Jessica, the bubbly blonde with bright eyes and a wide smile, was a breath of fresh air for Castiel. She joined him outside on the patio with “Irish” hot chocolate. When she sits down next to him she places the blanket she wore around them both and smiles. Not pushing him to talk or answer questions. The two of them sit together in companionable silence when a round of laughing breaks out behind them. They both turn to see Dean, red faced and bright eye, running past them to the snow outside with his brother Sam hot on his heels, yelling at him about settling something like men.

“Bring it, Moose!” Dean shouts.

Jessica sighs and shakes her head. She must have seen the question on Castiel’s face and explained that this was at tradition for the Winchester brothers. Apparently one would bring something up, causing a fight of sorts and the other would goad them into a snowball fight. 

“Last year, Sam outed Dean to Bobby by accident,” Jessica informs Cas. “The last thing Sam would ever do is hurt his big brother and honestly we all thought Dean was going to swing at him. Instead they came out here and spent two hours hurling snowballs and insults.”

“Good God,” Castiel breaths, watching as Dean ducked out of the way of one of Sam’s throws. 

“That’s the thing with the Winchester brothers,” Jessica says, putting her head on Castiel’s shoulder. “When they fight, they see it out until one of them apologizes, no matter how long it takes. Sam would never leave Dean alone and Dean would never abandon Sam. No matter how angry they are at each other.”

“Must be nice,” Castiel muses softly.

Jessica gives a small shrug. “They’re all each other had for so long.”

Castiel smiles down at Jessica, only to see her watching him right back. “And now Sam has you as well.”

Jessica’s returning smile was shy but beautiful. “Yeah. And Dean has you right?”

Castiel doesn’t know how to respond to that and luckily was cut off when Ellen called everyone in for dinner. 

* * *

Over the course of the next couple of days, Castiel spent more time with Jessica than anyone else in Dean’s extended family. She helps him do last minute Christmas shopping - he already had her gift, a short story written about herself and her prince charming, something that came to him after finding out she was a fan of his works - and sticking with him during the annual gingerbread competition. Castiel had to admit, it was fun to see the matching looks of shock and betrayal on the Winchester brothers faces when his and Jess’s little house beat out the reigning champs.

When Christmas day happens, Castiel wakes to find a cup of coffee on the night stand and Dean sitting at his childhood desk holding something in his hands. Castiel stretches out his limbs, his back arching as a contented noise escapes his lips.

Dean chuckles and gives Castiel a small smile. “Morning, sunshine.”

“Morning, Dean.” Castiel greets, sitting up in the bed. 

“I uh… I wanted to give you your official gift in private.”

Castiel watches as Dean’s face tints to a faint pink. He pats the space on the bed next to him, signaling Dean to join him. 

Dean makes his way over, still dressed in his sleep pants and loose t-shirt from the night before. Castiel can’t help thinking how much he likes to see Dean like this. Clearly fresh from sleep, his hair fluffy from drying naturally after his shower, yet flat on one side from where he slept on his pillow. It was natural and Castiel loved this version. 

When Dean sits down next to him he hands Castiel the object wrapped in silver paper. “It’s not much,” he says softly. “But I thought you might enjoy it.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything, Dean.” 

“Just open it, Cas.”

Carefully, Castiel slides his finger under one edge, separating the tape from the paper so that he can reveal the secret that lies within. The first thing he notices is the wooden frame. The reddish brown tones match the bookshelves in his work space. The more he unwraps the more is revealed. A beautiful frame holds photos from that night he and Dean had played with the lights in front of the camera. It’s a beautiful collage of photos, each showing the laughter and joy of the two men dancing around in the dark. On the black mat surrounding the collection there’s a quote written in calligraphy with silver ink.

“The difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug.” He reads out loud. He looks up at Dean, so many questions he wanted to ask running through his head, but no idea where to start.

“When I saw you had most of Twain’s works in first editions, I figured you liked him. And that quote was the most appropriate.” Castiel can see Dean watching him from the corner of his eye as his fingers trace along their profiles in the center picture. “I uh,” Dean clears his throat, causing Castiel’s eyes to meet his. “I realize that wasn’t our first kiss but I like to think of it that way and I like the way the composition-”

Dean’s words are cut off when Castiel pushes him down onto the bed, crashing his lips to Dean’s. There is a tiny sound of surprise from Dean but he quickly recovers, cradling Castiel’s face in his hands. Gentle nips from both men lead to little bursts of laughter and eventually they’re smiling at each other. 

“I love it, Dean.” Castiel whispers against Dean’s lips. 

“Merry Christmas, Cas.”


	8. Hard To Say Goodbye

Things with Castiel and Dean’s relationship had taken a change. While what they were was still unspoken between the two men, it was clear that they were just a hair over the line that separated friendship and couple. 

If Dean’s family had any ill will towards this, they were good at keeping it quiet. Honestly Castiel didn’t believe that they did. If anything, they seemed happier for Dean. 

Christmas day was a day of gifts, food, laughter and movies. It turned out that Dean had another present for Castiel that he had no qualms giving him in front of his family. He had completed the photo book for Castiel’s publishing company and wanted to give Castiel the first copy. As people looked over his shoulder, Castiel flipped through the pictures, speechless as the various compositions showed not only Dimitri but Castiel. A group favorite was of Castiel at his desk, laptop perched on his thighs with his legs stretched out onto the desk. 

It was hard to pick his favorite from the book, but he knew the publishers will figure it out for him.

Jessica loved her story, crying when she read the opening paragraph. At first Sam was concerned. After all, what man likes to see his love cry? But when Jessica wrapped her arms around him whispering her love for him, the concern changed to complete and utter adoration for the petite blond in his arms.

Dean’s gift had been a fluke find. When shopping, he and Jessica went into a thrift store and while she looked for the perfect thing for Bobby, he wandered over to the music collection. It was by sheer luck that he had found Led Zeppelin’s  _ II _ on vinyl and not only that, but autographed by the band. At first neither Jessica nor Castiel believed their luck, but could confirm that the quarter he paid for it was worth nearly fifteen thousand dollars. 

But seeing the way Dean lit up in excitement and started shouting ‘holy shit’ was well worth more than that. Of course, the kiss he got after the initial shock wore off was also worth it. 

Castiel had to admit that this was the best Christmas he had had by far. 

* * *

“So, this is where I warn you,” Dani - who had flown in the day before with her boyfriend Jake or something - started, leaning closer to Castiel. “Dean likes to pretend he starred in Cocktail and will try to impress you with his fancy ass bottle twirling.”

“Hey, Harris! I can hear you!” Dean shoots back from his spot behind the bar where he was filling several shot glasses with a golden colored liquid.

“Duh,” she teases then stage whispers. “Don’t let him into your pants with that. Make him work for it.”

Castiel can’t help but laugh. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“I’m so sorry, man,” her boyfriend apologizes, trying to pull her away.

“It’s quite alright.”

“He likes you, Cas! He  _ likes _ you. I know that look.” She says between giggles as she was swept over Alex's - or was it Jen something? - shoulder and carried away.

Castiel chuckles and looks ahead of him to see Dean leaning against the bar smiling at him. 

“Tequila?” he asks and Castiel nods as Dean clinked his shot glass against Castiel’s before tipping it back. Castiel cringes at the flavor and suddenly wishes he had something salty. “She’s a lightweight.” Dean offers by way of an explanation. 

Castiel huffs a laugh and nods. “She apparently has a type.” Dean gives him a puzzled look that makes Castiel laugh louder. “He looks like your twin.”

Dean looks in their direction and wrinkles his nose. “He’s too much of a pretty boy.”

“I think you’re pretty....  _ Boy _ .” Castiel took great pleasure in watching Dean physically shudder at the way Castiel’s voice lowered.

Dean leans closer and Castiel feels his own head tilting to give Dean room. He can smell the tequila and tang of the beer he was drinking on Dean’s breath as his lips brush against Castiel’s. “I’m so fucking happy we’re going to a hotel tonight.” Dean smiles against Castiel’s mouth, his tongue flicking against the seam, coaxing Castiel into opening to him.

“Boy, don’t make me pour ice down those jeans!” Ellen calls out. “So, help me Dean Winchester, you defile my guests I’ll bend you over my knee like you were ten years old again.”

Dean breaks away with a groan and Castiel laughs. “Can we try that later?” Castiel should be shocked by his own words but the hunger in Dean’s eyes make him glad for the liquid courage. 

“Note to self,” Dean says loud enough for only Castiel to hear. “Tequila brings out the adventurous side of Cas.”

Castiel’s response was cut off by Jessica, Jo and Jody singing a very loud and off-key rendition of Joe Nichols’  _ Tequila Makes Her Clothes Fall Off. _ He was eventually roped into joining them, singing along to songs he never heard before and some that were vaguely familiar.

As far as New Year’s Eve parties went, this was also Castiel’s favorite. He had never been to one that was so laid back and in an actual bar. Here he wasn’t forced to wear a stuffy tux, required to mingle with pretentious authors or editors that looked down their nose at his writing. Here he was comfortable in his jeans and Dean’s shirt. Here he could participate in games like Bullshit, or laugh hysterically as Dean fumbles the body shot off him. He stumbles when Jessica and Jody teach him to line dance. He even gets stolen kisses and asthma inducing make out sessions in the hallway when Dean roughly pulls him there. 

Here Castiel was just that. Castiel. Or as Ellen had started calling him, Dean’s Cas. And he was loving every minute of it.

Or at least he was. 

“OH MY GOD!” Dani shrieks as a song Ash, Jo’s fiancé, put on started to play. Suddenly the group of girls Castiel was dancing with started jumping up and down singing how something started with a kiss. He laughs at their antics until a newcomer to their party enters the bar.

Castiel feels his smile start to fall when the burly man looks around the room until his eyes land on Dean. Castiel was frozen in his spot as he watched Dean, clearly happy to see the man, jumps over the bar to meet him halfway. The two men embraced.

“Oh shit…” Jo’s voice broke Castiel’s attention and he looks down at the blond to his right. 

“Are they…” Castiel can’t finish his question as the alcohol he consumed starts to churn in his stomach. 

He doesn’t hear anything Jo and the others said, pushing his way past them and out the door. He needs air, especially after seeing the way Dean had just smiled at the man. He makes his way outside, stopping just short of the main steps before everything came up. He felt like a fool. He let himself go, he got tangled up with Dean and now he’s paying for it.

He spits a few times to get the vile taste out of his mouth and sees Ellen standing behind him with a bottle of water and a sad expression. 

“Cas, Dean and Benny th-” She closes her mouth when Castiel holds his hand up to stop her. 

“It’s fine, Ellen. I don’t need an explanation. Dean and I, we’re just…”

Ellen gives him a sad smile, something in her warm brown eyes making Cas think she knew exactly how he was feeling. “You wait by Bobby’s truck. I’ll take you home.”

Castiel nods but then stops Ellen. “I just need to get my things. I should get back to Oregon. I have deadlines.”

Ellen opens her mouth to say something, her eyes narrowing before she gives him a curt nod. Castiel can tell she wasn’t happy, but he doesn’t need to hang around any longer. 

* * *

 

Dean is having a blast watching the girls in his family treat Cas like he was one of the gang. He has to admit watching Cas trying to keep up with the amount of alcohol Jo could put down was entertaining. Dean only feels slightly bad that he failed to mention that Jo was literally born and raised in this very bar. But Dean has to give Cas credit. He’s holding his own and seems to be enjoying himself. Especially the stolen moments they have together. Every chance Dean has to talk with Cas he finds himself pressed against him, tongue in each other’s mouths before someone interrupts them.

Their time together is ending, now that Dean has finished the portfolio of the requested images and Cas was close to sending off his manuscript to the editor. He wants to get Cas alone to suggest seeing each other past the end of their contract. But again, every time he gets Cas alone tonight, he gets distracted. 

He doesn’t expect a blast from his past to walk in either. The minute Dean hears the deep Cajun accent he can’t help the smile that crosses his face. It’s been years since he last saw Benny. Last, he had heard, Benny and his wife Andrea were expecting their first child. To say that Dean was surprised to see him was an understatement.

When he went over to greet Benny, he was immediately engulfed in a strong embrace, one that while yes, Dean was intimately familiar with, it didn’t feel the same as it did before. Even when they had embraced at Benny’s wedding, a final farewell, Dean still felt an ounce of longing for the burly Louisiana native. But now, it felt as if he was being deprived of arm, much like his hugs with Sam. It didn’t feel like the embrace of a former lover, but of an old friend.

“Well I’ll be,” Benny laughs, cupping Dean’s face in his paw-like hands. Greyish blue eyes searching Dean’s face. “You’re in love, brotha.”

Dean can’t help rolling his eyes, his own hands on Benny’s wrists. “What gave it away?” He asks quietly.

“You got the same look I get when I think about Andrea.”

Dean laughs and pulls Benny’s hands from his face. “Yeah, I guess I am then.”

“Who’s the lucky one,  _ Cheri _ ?”

Dean just waves Benny off. “Where’s Andrea?”

Benny laughs loud and joyfully. “She’s at the hotel. Didn’t want to get a sitter and didn’t want the excitement to keep lil miss Savannah from sleeping.”

Dean’s jaw drops. “She had the baby?” Benny just grins and nods, pulling out his phone to show Dean a picture of the baby girl. “Jesus, Benny,” Dean breaths. “Lucky for you, she looks like her momma.”

“Oh, hardy har, brotha. I expect her Godfather,” Benny gives Dean a pointed look. “to help me chase the boys off with a stick.”

Dean was touched that Benny thought so highly of him that he would want him in such an important role. “Of course. Remember I learned to shoot a gun at the tender age of six,” he jokes. 

“Good.” Benny claps Dean on the back. “Andrea will be pleased. Now pour me a drink and tell me about your  _ Cheri _ .”

“Actually, Cas is here. I can get him for you and you can interrogate him yourself.” Dean laughs at the way Benny smirks at the idea. He looks around to see the group of girls Cas was with had disbanded. He scans the bar and is unable to find Cas. 

“Give me a minute, Benny.” He walks back to the kitchen where Bobby and his war buddy Rufus sit at one of the stainless-steel tables. “Where’s Ellen?” he asks. 

“Took your friend home,” Bobby says not looking from the table where apparently the two men were having a rousing game of dominoes. 

“What?”

Rufus laughs, laying down a tile and causing Bobby to swear then looks up at Dean. “You deaf, boy? Ellen took him home. Said he wasn’t feeling good and needed to go.”

“Why didn’t he say anything?” Dean wonders out loud.

“You idjit, it’s a wonder he was able to tell Ellen he needed to go in the first place. You let the fool try to drink Jo under the table!” 

Dean just rolls his eyes and leaves the two older men to their own devices. Benny was the first to notice Dean’s return and frowns at his friend. Dean can’t explain it, but he feels as if something is off. Cas wouldn’t have left without letting him know. Hell, Dean would have taken him home himself. 

Before he knew it, Sam was standing beside him, trying to talk to Dean, but everything sounded like it was under water. 

“When did Ellen leave?” he finally asks. 

“Ellen?” Jess asks, now also at Dean’s side. 

“I saw her take Bobby’s truck about an hour ago. Why?” Sam answers.

_ She should have been back by now. Especially if she was just taking Cas back to the house. _ Dean reaches into his pocket, grabbing his phone and pushing his way out the main door. There weren’t any messages or missed calls. Surely Cas would have at least sent a text. 

Once Dean stepped outside he was assaulted with the telltale smell of someone being sick and he feels his shoulders slump. Maybe instead of jumping to conclusions, he should try calling Cas and see if he’s okay. 

He punches the icon under Cas’ picture and waits for the call to connect. 

“You’ve reached Castiel. Make your voice a mail? Erm, I mean leave a message at the tone.”

* * *

Castiel watches as his phone lights up several times, each time Dean’s smiling face taunting him. He should just turn it off, one less thing to worry about when he boards the plane. But he can’t bring himself to do it.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Ellen. I’m sorry to have to cut our time together so short.”

Ellen glances at him from behind the steering wheel of the truck before looking at the road ahead.

“I get it,” she says. “You’re in love with my boy and he’s too much of a fool to admit that he’s hung up on you in the same way.”

The phone lit up again. This time there was a text.

_ >> Cas please call me. Let me know you’re ok _

“I don’t know if the feeling is mutual.” 

Another message comes in.

_ >>I  know you got sick. I can smell it out here _

Ellen chuckles softly. “Dean, he doesn’t know how to share his feelings like most of us warm bodied humans. I blame Bobby for that one.”

_ >> I’m sorry I let you drink so much _

Castiel glances at the phone before looking at Ellen. “I don’t understand.”

Ellen sighs. “You know that Bobby ain’t Joanna Beth’s daddy, right?” Castiel nods, remembering Dean briefly explaining that for both Ellen and Bobby their marriage is their second each. “Bobby lost his Karen first. Bill, my first husband and I were there for him after she was taken.” Ellen shakes her head as if clearing the memories from her mind. “Bobby was a mess. He and Karen had gotten into an ugly spat before he perched himself at my bar. She wanted kids. He didn’t. Told me that he felt like he deceived her. Worse than it would have been if he cheated on her because he knew from day one that she wanted kids and he didn’t.”

“Even though the sonovabitch that broke in is the one that killed her, he blames himself. Even to this day, he’ll drink himself to a stupor and just stare out the window. Three years later, mister gruff, ‘I ain’t ever having kids’ has not only one child on his hand, but two. He took to Dean like flies to honey,” she chuckles. “I knew the old coot had a soft spot for the boy. After all they came from similar backgrounds.”

“Anyway, two years after the courts officially listed Bobby as their guardian, I lost my Bill to a hunting accident. Suddenly Bobby had a house full of kids and a grieving widow. It changed him. He wanted to provide for all of us, and he did. But he was so closed off emotionally, especially towards those boys. I know Bobby loves them and Jo as much as if they were his own flesh and blood, but Bobby was never shown how to express his emotions. His father was an abusive sonovabitch and thankfully that didn’t carry on in the Singer name.”

“You’d put him in his place first,” Castiel says softly earning a wide grin from Ellen.

“Damn straight I would!”  She laughs and reaches over to grasp Castiel’s hand. “Honey, Dean is a lot like Bobby. He has memories of John and Mary being happy but he was so young when they left him that he doesn’t know how to process it. Sam is freer in his feelings but I think Dean had to compensate for their lack of parents.”

Castiel’s phone lights up with another missed call from Dean. He sighs, hitting the ignore button just as another text came in.

_ >> Call me _ _   
_ _ >> please _

Ellen slows to a stop outside the entrance to the airport and places the old truck into park. “Will you call one of us to let us know you landed safely?” She asks.

Castiel gives her a small smile and nods. “I promise.”

Ellen reaches over and pulls him into a hug, one that he didn’t realize he needed until he felt something wet and warm against his cheeks. Ellen holds him tighter and runs a comforting hand through his hair. “You’ll always be welcome here, Cas.” She whispers. “Always.”


	9. Moving On

When Castiel makes his way home, he feels as if he is dying on the inside. Even though he and Dean were never officially a couple, the last few hours were weighing on him as if they had gone through the worst break up in history. The hours prior to everything, Castiel felt as if they could have been more. He had gotten a peek into what it would be like to share a life with Dean. To join him at family events. To be free to kiss and touch him, to hold him. To be his. 

As promised, Castiel sends a quick text to Ellen, letting her know that he was home and safe. He also thanks her again for her hospitality and willingness to sit with him as his heart shattered to pieces. She makes him swear not to be a stranger and to come see her and Bobby any time. It was a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep, but one Castiel was willing to try.

He also sent a text to Dean. He has to erase it several times before finally settling on one that said that he was home and for Dean to enjoy the rest of his holiday. After that, he turns his cell off and calls his brother on the house phone. 

Jimmy sounds concerned for Castiel, clearly hearing the hurt in his voice and offers to come get him so that he doesn’t have to be there when Dean arrives to get the rest of his things. Castiel declines the offer, instead agreeing to meet with the family soon. His brother doesn’t place blame on either Castiel or Dean, a fact that Castiel is grateful for. Jimmy listens as his brother berates himself for falling so hard and so fast for the younger man. For thinking that someone like him had a place in Dean’s life. Jimmy offers comforting words and even offers to pray for his brother, hoping to help him find some solace.

After his call with Jimmy, Castiel makes a quick call to Balthazar, knowing that his longtime friend and business associate was most likely sleeping off his Parisian hangover as he enjoys ringing in the New Year in Paris. He leaves a short message, letting the man know what the status of his book was and that Castiel anticipates receiving it by the end of the following week. At least three weeks ahead of schedule. He also goes  as far as mentioning that he has seen the final prints Dean selected and knew that the publishing house would be amazed by them.

Once his required check-ins are complete, Castiel shuffles his way to the kitchen where he pulls out a frozen burrito Dean got him addicted to and a very strong rum and coke before locking himself in the den to complete his work.

It has taken nearly three days, but Castiel has not only reworked the ending of his novel, but has plotted out the next two books in the series - complete with an ending he feels his space cowboy deserves, even if he is too stubborn to see it for himself. 

He has made himself conveniently unavailable every time Dean calls, trying to reach him, deciding that it was easier to just disappear than to face the man he loves directly. Eventually, Dean seems to get the hint as both Sam and Dani show up to collect Dean’s things instead of him. Dani gives him sad, tear filled smiles while Sam seems more angry and understandably so.

Castiel honestly doesn’t think that Sam will talk to him, seeming perfectly content to get his brother’s things and leave. Castiel gives the two space. Waiting at the kitchen table, a sense of melancholy seeps its way through him. It was this very spot where the best months of his life started and now they were ending. Truth be told, a part of him had hoped that it was Dean at the door. That Dean was willing to fight for him and what could have been. But what is there to fight for when they didn’t have anything to begin with?

The sound of a throat clearing pulls Castiel from his thoughts as he looks up to see Sam standing there. He watches the younger Winchester as he puts a small box on the table. 

“Dean wanted me to give you these. You left them at Bobby’s.”

“Thank you,” Castiel says softly.

Sam clears his throat again and sits down across from Castiel. “We don’t hate you. I would love to beat your face in for hurting Dean but I’m pretty sure Jess would shove her foot so far up my ass, I’d be sneezing out the laces.” Castiel can’t help the huff of laugh at that and judging by the small smile on Sam’s face that was the intended reaction. “And I’m pretty sure Dean would have my ass as well.” 

“I think you could take him.”

Sam chuckles and pulls an envelope out of the box. “Jessica wanted me to give this to you. It’s a shame you missed the wedding.”

Castiel grins at the package, knowing exactly what it was. Jessica had called Castiel telling him that she would be sending pictures from the wedding. “It was for the best, Sam.”

“Yeah, no. I get it, Cas.” 

Castiel glances up to see Sam looking at him expectantly. “How is he?” Castiel asks softly.

“Good… considering. He got a new gig. Flew out yesterday.” Sam gives him a significant look.

Castiel nods and opens the envelope. A grin stretchs across his face at a beautiful picture of Jessica in her gown smiling up at Sam. She looked like a princess in her ballgown and the love for Sam obvious in her eyes. 

As Castiel thumbs through the various photos he couldn’t help the contented little sighs that slips out with each photo. “These are beautiful, Sam. Your photographer had a great eye.”

“Yeah and he came cheap,” Sam jokes just as a familiar picture came into view. Only this time, Jess and Sam were the focus as the light of the sparklers caught their intimate moment.

“I would imagine Dean would refuse payment.” Castiel says distractedly. 

“Yeah,” Sam says as he pushes himself up from the table. 

“Give Jess my-” Castiel pauses as he comes across a picture that clearly wasn’t one Dean had taken. The grainy black and white image looked as if it was printed from a computer. “Sam?” Castiel asks, tilting his head to look at Sam as if his face had all the answers.

Sam lets out a deep breath. “Jess thought it would be a good idea to surprise you with an ultrasound picture because - her words - No matter how much of a moron Dean is, I still love Cas and he will be Uncle Cas to our child and Dean can go suck an egg.”

“You’re going to be a father?” Castiel asks, the joy clear in his voice. Sam nods in response, biting his lower lip to hide the grin that was trying to stretch across his face. “Oh, Sam, that’s wonderful!” Castiel is up out of his chair and throwing his arms around Sam. Sam laughs and returns Castiel’s hug. 

“Besides us, you and Dean are the only two to know. Jess wants to announce it at Easter.”

“I’m honored that you would share this with me now. It means a lot.” Castiel looks back down at the ultrasound again. “Please keep me updated.”

Sam nods. “Of course. I’m sure Jess will want to invite you to the shower.”

“I look forward to it,” Castiel says sincerely as he walks Sam to the door. “Can you say hi to him for me?” he asks softly.

“Might have better luck if you just call him,” Sam sang, out taking the front steps two at a time.

_ Easier said than done _ , Castiel thinks as he watches Dani and Sam get into the car to leave. 

Once he was sure that they were gone, Castiel makes his way back to the kitchen to see what else was in the box. There wasn’t much there, not that he was expecting there to be. There was the collection book that Dean had given him as well as the framed photo. 

It was amazing how even though it had been several weeks since he had seen Dean, he could still feel his presence as if the man was sitting at the table with him. 

His fingers trace the words,  _ the difference between the right word and the almost right word is the difference between lightning and a lightning bug _ . Before he knew what he was doing, he pulls out his phone and brings up Dean’s number.

His fingers type out a message before he has a chance to doubt it, hitting send and setting his phone down. Castiel hoped for the best.

* * *

 

When Dean had gotten back to Bobby’s he wasn’t surprised to see that Castiel’s things were gone. In his haste to leave, he had left behind the gifts that Dean had gotten him. Dean wants to smash the custom frame, leave it smattered in millions of little pieces, just like Cas had done to his heart. But he doesn’t because that would mean he would have to admit that there was something there to everyone else. 

Instead he takes a page out of the old Winchester playbook and gets lost in manual labor. He does odd jobs at Bobby’s using the ache in his muscles to help him forget about the pain in his chest. He helps out at the bar, giving Ellen some much needed rest, using his charm to make the girls giggle. But no matter what it is that he does, nothing can take his mind off the time he had spent with Cas. As hard as he tries, he just can’t replace him.

A few weeks after their split - or ending of their contract - Dean gets a call from Dani who was over the moon with excitement for her friend. It turned out that one of the gentlemen overseeing the Krushnic project had a friend with a foot in the door for the editor at the Smithsonian Magazine who was looking for someone to help them with an article. The writer wanted to write about the Aurora Borealis and needed a photographer to go along with her. Dean had jumped at the chance, even though he would be required to fly. This, after all, was just another stepping stone to his dream.

He spent three weeks freezing his balls off with an oh-so-British chick named Toni Bevelle who quite honestly was the most infuriating woman he had ever had the displeasure of meeting. No matter how he felt about the woman personally, he did his best to remain focused on getting the right shots because he really wanted to impress the editors. 

He must have impressed someone because before the proofs were even officially submitted he had his next assignment set and ready to fly out to Ireland. Dean was on cloud nine and found that with his mind so occupied on his assignment he had less time to dwell on why he was working so hard. 

That is, until he talks to Sam, who informs Dean that not only did Cas look as if he hadn’t slept since New Years, but also seemed sad. Dean snaps at Sam, saying that Dean wasn’t the one that left and cut off all communication. That’s all on Cas and he doesn’t give two shits if the man was feeling as heartbroken as he. Dean was always good at denying the obvious.

Shortly after his call with Sam, while Dean is doing his laundry, preparing for his trip to Ireland his phone pings with a new message. 

_ >> I miss you _ _   
_ _ >> I’m sorry _

Dean sits on the bed, his hands trembling as he looks at the words sent to him from Cas. After nearly two months of radio silence, he gets  _ this _ and he doesn’t know what to do with it. Not that there was anything _ to _ do since he has to be at the airport in under an hour. A part of him wants to call Cas, yell at him for cutting him out, demand answers as to why. Another part just wants to forget everything but he knows he can’t. He’s in love with Cas, even if Cas will never know.

Dean groans and throws himself back on the bed. On autopilot, his hand moves over the keys, calling the one person he needs. 

“Dean?” The weary voice answers. 

“Hey El, you got a minute?”

“For you, boy? I got all day. What’s eatin’ ya?” Dean feels his eyes burn as the tears start to well at the affectionate tone in Ellen’s voice.

“I don’t know what to do.” His voice sounds shaky and he hates it.

“About Cas?”

Dean nods, then remembers that he isn’t on skype. “Yeah. He sent me a text like five minutes ago.” Ellen makes a noise that indicates that she wants Dean to continue. “He said he’s sorry and that he misses me.”

“Took him long enough,” she mutters. “Do you miss him?”

“I don’t know.”

“Bullshit, boy and you know it.”

Dean lets out a long sigh. “I feel like half of me is missing. I constantly have this ache in my chest and even when I think I’m not thinking about him, he’s there, in the back thoughts, lingering.”

“That’s love, Dean.”

“I know, Ellen. I just wish...I wish I knew why, you know? Like everything was finally starting to be fucking perfect again.”

“Dean, did you ever tell him about Benny?”

“What?”

“Benny? Did you ever tell Cas about Benny and your relationship with him?”

Dean groans and pinches the bridge of his nose. “We never really had the talk about the exes, Ellen. I only knew about Meg because I was there when she died.”

“You’re a fool boy.”

“Gee, I love you too,  _ Mom _ .”

“Cut the shit, Dean. Cas cares about you. Imagine how you would feel, seeing someone look at him the way Benny looks at you.”

“Benny doesn’t look at me like-”

“Dean, anyone can see he still cares about you. Sure he may be happily married but it’s obvious. And you always light up like a Christmas tree when you see him!”

“He’s my best friend…” Dean says softly.

“That you were in love with until Cas.”

“No. I cared about Benny, yes, but I don’t think what I felt for him was love. At least it didn’t feel like it does with Cas.”

“Listen honey. I love you as if you were my own damn kid. But you need to get your head out of your ass and talk to Cas. I think you both would be spared a world full of heartache if you just did that.”

Dean makes a promise to Ellen to try and to have a safe trip. He feels a little better having spoken to the closest thing he had to a mother. No matter what Dean may have put her and Bobby through, he always knew he could count on them to help him see through the fog.

After a quick mental check list of his items, Dean grabs his bag and locks up his apartment. He watches as the building gets smaller from the cab and decides he has one more thing to do before he loses his nerve.

_ << Me too _ _   
_ _ << Talk after I get back from Ireland? _

Dean doesn’t expect the response he gets as fast as he does.

_ >> I look forward to it. _

* * *

Two months, Dean spent traversing around Ireland. He enjoyed the culture, food, and spirits. He saw the beauty of the Irish countryside. Marveled at the wondrous structures he was sent to capture. He had fallen in love again and even still, longed to share this with Cas. 

Sam sent Dean a care package at one point. A box crammed full of gummy bears, a couple of CDs with Dean’s favorite songs, extra thick socks, and Cas’ newly published book. Dean spent the day, tucked away in the corner of a pub in Dublin nursing a pint of ale and pouring over every word of Cas’ novel. He found himself entranced with the story of the human finding a family in a galaxy far from his own. How, with the help of a living space craft, he saw his own self worth. Dean’s favorite character by far was the human and his space cowboy like personality. Of course, the love interest Cas had created made Dean smile as well. 

Cas had gone with the nontraditional route, taking Dean’s advice and making the love interest a man. While the main character had a bit of a sexual identity crisis, the alien revealed that he was indifferent to orientation as a whole since his species merely copulated to relieve stress. This makes Dean snort into his ale.

Overall the book was impressive. The human teaching the aliens about loyalty and love, teaching his potential mate that there was more to life than to obey orders. Naturally, Cas had left it on a cliffhanger and Dean will have to get him back for that. That is, if Dean ever gets the chance. 

 


	10. A New Start

Dean adjusts his tie outside the window of the bookseller. He knows it’s silly to be wearing the light brown colored fabric, but he wants to look nice. Just in case. He glances up at his hair and picks at it, trying to get the front to stand at just the right angle before he rolls his eyes at himself and makes his way in.

Pictures of Cas litter the store. They were all from the proofs Dean had sent to his publisher and he smiles at the ones that were selected for the book tour. His favorite of the bunch had to have been the candid of Cas at a coffee shop. Dean loved the way he could capture Cas lost in the moment as inspiration struck him while getting his morning coffee. His hair was a bit crazy, he hadn’t shaved in two days and it showed and he was just lost. Completely focused on what was flowing from his thoughts, to the ink of his pen, through the words on the paper of his notepad.

“Thank you everyone for coming,” a voice says from Dean’s left and he looks over to see a group of people sitting and waiting by a podium on a platform. “We have a rare treat and I feel especially thankful that we are in Mr. Krushnic’s home town because he’s going to grace us with a reading from his latest book. So, ladies and gentlemen, please bring your hands together for Dimitri Krushnic.”

Dean leans back against the wall and watches as the others applaud. His heart stutters at the sight of Cas, stepping onto the platform and shaking the manager's hand. Dean chuckles softly at the ill-fitting blue suit Cas has chosen to wear, remembering once how he complained that he had to get a boot or flare cut because his thighs were always too big for regular cuts. He watches as Cas removes the size too big coat, folding it over the back of a chair then loosening the knot of his blue and silver striped tie. 

“Thank you, Mr. Milton. And thank you residents of McLeod for wanting to spend your beautiful spring day indoors with me.” The crowd chuckles and Dean bites his lip as Cas smiles at the crowd. “As Mr. Milton said, I will be reading a passage from my book and would like to open the floor to a quick Q and A session, after which we can do autographs. Is that to your liking?” Again, the audience chuckles and Dean can’t fight the smile on his face.

Castiel clears his throat, taking a moment to take a sip of water before rolling his sleeves up to his elbows. “Okay,” he says opening his copy and setting it on the podium. “Let’s get started, shall we?”

_ The ship rocked as the Leviathans sent another pulse against her stern. Jake was torn. Should he go check with Pilot and see if he and Aria were okay? Surely a hit that hard had to have impacted Aria, damaged her or the baby in some way. But he also wanted to check if the viper was still in the hanger. To see if Tylon was still there.  _

_ “Damn it, Winston!” Jake cursed himself, deciding to head starboard, towards Pilot. “Since when do you give a shit about another man who clearly doesn’t want anything to do with you. You’re two different species. Stop pining over him like some love-struck teenager.” _

_ “Is it custom for hoomans to speak to nothing?” A gravelly voice suddenly asked. _

_ “Damn it Ty! I’m serious. Next space outpost we go to I’m buying you a damn bell!” Jake looked up to see Tylon close. Dangerously so. If it weren’t for the Leviathan's trying to blow holes in their ship, or the words Tylon had spit at Jake just an hour ago, Jake would have acted on impulse and finally got a feel for Tylon’s lips against his.  _

_ “Ty! We talked about this!” Jake’s jade colored eyes widened as Tylon leaned closer, his own sky-blue eyes nearly silver with their intensity. Jake swallowed thickly, the feeling of cotton taking over before he could finish his statement. “Personal space?” _

_ Tylon tilted his head, in a manner Jake really should not find as endearing as he does. “Oh yes,” he said suddenly, taking a calm step back from Jake. “My apologies.” _

_ Jake opened his mouth to respond when a deep rumble sounded from the coms. “Jake, Pilot says Aria can flash in three microts. Brace for impact.” _

_ “What? Udax, no! What about the baby?!”  Before Udax could respond they were hit by another pulse, knocking Jake into Tylon’s firm body. _

The store erupts in applause as Cas closes the book and smiles. Dean’s eyes follow Cas’ movements as he inclines his head, giving his audience silent thanks as he surveys the crowd.

A familiar redhead joins Cas on stage. She takes the mic and announces that they would now be doing the Q & A portion.

“Remember, Mister Krushnic has every right to completely ignore a question that he feels is over bounds.”

The crowd murmurs their understanding and the questioning begins.

“You made it,” a soft voice says from Dean’s right and he smiles at the redhead from earlier. “He didn't think you'd come.”

“And miss the private reading?” He jokes before turning his eyes to the female companion. “You should wear dresses more, Charlie. They Look good on you.”

“I'm gonna stop you there Rico Suave,” she teases. “This hot bod doesn't need to be objectified. Besides,” she gives a small shrug. “This was for Cas. I wanted to make him feel better about having to wear the suit.”

Dean looks back at Cas who was laughing at something said by a fan. “He looks good up there. You'd never guess this was the same guy who didn't like to leave the house unless it was for his run or coffee.”

Charlie makes a noncommittal noise.

“Hi,” Cas greets the next person to ask a question.

“Hi,” the girl responds softly. “I had a question about your dedication. Do you still speak to your muse?”

“Crapsicles,” Charlie muttered, pushing herself off the wall.

“Do I still speak to my muse…” Cas repeats before standing up, subtly holding his hand up to stop Charlie. “Sadly, I don't.” The crowd makes a sympathetic noise. “Mainly my fault. Instead of talking to him and explaining my thinking, I shut him out.” He gives a humorless laugh. “I guess I'm more like Tylon in that respect.”

“And if you could tell him anything?” The same fan asks.

Dean's breath catches in his throat as Cas looks right at him. “I finally found the word for lighting bug.”

Dean hears Charlie gasp as if she has just been clued into a secret. He turns to her and hands her a letter. “Can you give him this?”

“Aren’t you going to get your book signed?”

He shakes his head. “Just please give him that.”

Charlie nods, her wide eyes filling with tears. “Of course.”

Dean pulls her into a hug, holding her tight as he places a soft kiss on the crown of her head. “Thanks, Charlie. I’ll be better at keeping in touch.”

“You better,” she chides. Dean still can’t believe how close he felt to Charlie even after their first meeting. She was the little sister he didn’t know he wanted. “Take care of yourself,” she says softly.

“Always,” he gives her a wink and makes his way out of the booksellers. 

* * *

When the last book is signed, Castiel gives a small wave to the crowd before following Charlie out the back to the waiting SUV. Once inside he lets out a deep breath, closing his eyes and laying his head back. 

“He looked good, didn’t he? Happy.”

“I’m still disappointed that he didn’t stay,” Charlie huffs, passing Castiel a bottle of water.

He cracks his eye open when he feels the bottle against his leg and accepts it. “He didn’t have to come, you know. I’m just glad I got to see him. Hopefully he understood what I meant.”

“The lightning bug comment?” Castiel nods, silently answering her. “Yeah, about that,” she hands him an envelope. “He asked me to give you this.”

Castiel takes it and slides his finger under the flap. Pulling out the folded piece of paper, his eyebrows knit together, wondering what Dean would have wanted to say. 

_ Cas, _

_ Tabula Rasa. In which we wipe the slate clean. Sounds like a good idea, no? I miss you more than you could ever imagine. If you’re willing to give us a chance,  _ _ God I hope you are,  _ _ meet me where it all began at 6:30. I’ll be the guy in the leather coat… _

“Is it good?” Charlie asks and Castiel feels his lips stretch into a smile. As he leans forward to the driver. 

“Hey, Matt, change of plans…”

* * *

Castiel sits at the corner table, his back to it so he can have a clear view of both the door and the counter. His right leg bounces in anticipation. Every time the chimes above the door jingles, alerting everyone to the presence of a new patron, Castiel’s heart threatens to leap out of his throat in anticipation. He laughs at himself and at the way he gets irritated every time the person that steps through is not Dean.

To say that Castiel wanted to start over, was both an understatement and incorrect. In fact, if Castiel had a choice, he’s not sure that he would want to wipe the slate clean. There were things, events, memories even that had occurred that Castiel never wanted forget. Never could forget, even if they hurt him. Sure, if he could go back in time, he would have definitely stayed at the bar to talk to Dean about the man that entered their lives that night. He would have made his desire to be with Dean more obvious, rather than waiting, hoping that Dean knew he was as in love with him, as he was with Castiel. 

Castiel was so lost in his own thoughts that this time, he doesn’t notice the chime of the bells. He doesn’t notice the man with strong, broad shoulders in the light brown leather jacket. He doesn’t see that this man has a familiar gait to his walk, a confident yet reserved swagger, accented by his bow legged hips. It isn’t until the man is standing at his table, that Castiel realizes this was the moment he was waiting for. 

“Hey, the name's Dean Winchester. You come here often?” Dean asks, his green eyes full of mirth, the smirk on his lips so tempting to kiss, his hand offered out to Castiel for a shake.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel slips his hand into Dean’s. The familiar electric tingle of Dean’s touch, shoots through him. “Castiel Novak and yes. It’s where I met the love of my life.”

“Mine too, Cas. Mine, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you again for ready my first attempt at the longer tropefest! If you liked this let me know. Also just as a heads up, if you'd like to see more from these two I suggest you subscribe. ;-)
> 
> Remember to give [Blu](https://blusart.tumblr.com/post/165550136625/for-the-deancastropefest-title-worth-a-thousand) love for the awesome art!


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